


A Second Chance

by Pallalalo



Series: Bilbo Baggins, Warrior of the Valar [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bilbo has magic, Bilbo is So Done, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fix-It, Fluff, Lovesickness, M/M, Magical Bilbo Baggins, Major Character Injury, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character Death, Mutilation, Original Character(s), Original Male Character - Freeform, Permanent Injury, Pre-Slash, Romance, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Slash, Slow Burn, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin is a Softie, Time Travel Fix-It, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pallalalo/pseuds/Pallalalo
Summary: Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “And you’ve come to the Shire to look for this someone? My, Gandalf, I wonder if you know Hobbits at all. They would tell you that adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. That they would make you late for dinner.” Bilbo recalled his own words perfectly. It had been something he and Gandalf had looked back on with bittersweet laughter.This Gandalf however noticed his exact words. “Would they now? And what about you, mhm? What would you tell me about adventures?”*The Valar send Bilbo back in time, to the day where Gandalf asks him to join in an adventure. After living a lifetime of regret and suffering, he vows to change things for the better. For Thorin. For Frodo. But will he succeed?
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: Bilbo Baggins, Warrior of the Valar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637314
Comments: 130
Kudos: 1815
Collections: Let’s Try This One Again





	1. An Unexpected Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Shot in the Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/634290) by [Silver_pup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_pup/pseuds/Silver_pup). 



> AAAAAAAh okay so my obsession with time travel fix it AUs has resurfaced and I couldn't help but write a fic of my own. Love all of the existing ones out there, and I hope i will be able to bring some joy to everyone who enjoys a good Bilbo Knows Too Much For His Own Good story!!
> 
> ill add tags as the story goes on
> 
> Inspired by "An Expected Journey" by MarieJacquelyn  
> "lay down your sweet and weary head" by Elenothar  
> "Comes Around Again" by scarletjedi  
> "A Fool's Hope" by TheLadyZephyr

_~~I had a dream. I got everything I wanted.~~ _

He drew his last breath. Frodo held his hand, with a gentle touch and crying eyes. Here he lay, dying, surrounded by Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry. His fellow hobbit-kin. Elron stood at the end of his bed, watching with his hands over his heart. They had invited him to the Undying Lands but it was too late for Bilbo. He could not live an eternity like this again.

 _I should have been better to you._ Bilbo thought helplessly, clutching Frodo's hand, unable to speak anymore.

All he could do was close his eyes and let the life fade from within. 

_I could have been better._

Bilbo wasn’t sure what to expect after death, but this wasn’t it. It was as if he was still awake and yet could not do anything. Slowly, he left his body, as if floating upwards. He reached down for his body, unsure of what was happening. One thing he was sure of however was that this was not death. 

**Are you sure you could have been better, little one?**

A booming voice. Frightened, Bilbo looked around for the source of the voice. Gathering his courage, he answered. “ _Yes! I could have been so much better. I could have been a better parent to my boy. I-I could have saved so many more-”_ He was choking up, his heart tightening with sorrow. He could have saved him. 

**We shall see.**

And with that, his soul rushed back to his body. The world changed rapidly, a bright light blinding him. Then:

Darkness. 

#

He could hear birds. Chirping and tweeting. With a quick breath, he awoke. Shocked, he looked around. The vigour of youth had returned to him, there was no pain in his back, no pain in his head. He didn’t dare look down, staring at the walls of his home. His Bag End. 

But it wasn’t _his_ Bag End. It was Bag End from years ago- a time before he had met any dwarves. _Dwarves?_

He stood up, shaking with realization. Now, he did look down. His hands showed no sign of age, no sign of the crippling arthritis that had caught him in his old age. 

His hands flew to his face, soft and youthful. He rushed to the mirror across his bedroom, staring at his reflection. 

  
And with that, everything came rushing back. The flood of memories was almost too much. _Thorin. Erebor. Fili. Kili. Frodo- the Ring!_

“Is this real?” He wondered, stroking his face once more. It was unbelievable. It just wasn’t possible. Unheard of. 

**Prove to me that you can be better.**

And there it was, the booming voice. He swallowed, in awe. Had it been Yavannah? The Valar? Who would send him back in time, send him to his youth? 

“I will. I will be the best Bilbo Baggins I can be.” He said, a fierce determination in his heart. A fire, almost, burning with passion. This time, he wouldn’t let anyone die. He wouldn’t let his heart be torn apart. And he wouldn’t let Frodo and his fellow hobbit-kin suffer so much. He wouldn’t let the world suffer. 

**Some things are meant to be.**

Bilbo nodded, dread pooling in his stomach. “That may be. But we will see just how much is meant to be and how much I can prevent.” He took a deep, clean breath. He could appreciate just how much youth would aid him; a mere minutes ago he couldn’t even speak!

Was it a few minutes ago, or will it be him again in 70 years again? 

He straightened up, shaking the hair out of his face. No, this time around things will end differently. He will make sure of it. 

#

Getting ready for the day had never been so exciting. Not only did he have the strength and ease again of being a 50 year old Hobbit, but he had missed his home dearly. He had loved Rivendell dearly, but it wasn’t his Bag End. 

It was the day that Gandalf had visited him, the day before Thorin and the others had shown up on his doorstep. _Thorin._ His heart ached, at the mere thought of his name. He steadied himself, leaning his head against the cool wall. 

He grabbed his pipe, swallowing his heart down back into his chest and sat down on his small bench. He needed to be brave, he needed to be strong. 

It wasn’t long before a certain wizard showed up, grey cloack wrapped around him and a sparkle in his eyes. 

“Good morning.” Bilbo smiled politely at his old- his _very_ old - friend. 

“What do you mean?” The wizard inquired, amused. “Do you wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?” 

Bilbo shook his head fondly, chuckling. 

“Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on, hmm?” Gandalf finished, looking at the hobbit in front of him with a new curiosity that hadn’t been there before. 

“All of them at once, I suppose.” Bilbo leant back, remembering what he had said. “Or perhaps I meant a simple greeting to an old friend.” He smiled brightly at the wizard. He had been too rude to his old friend last time and he had no desire to relive the experience. 

“You remember me, then?” Gandalf leant on his staff, narrowing his eyes at Bilbo. 

“Why, of course I do. You’re Gandalf, the wizard who is known for his mischief around the Shire.” _Nothing, compared to the future mischief Gandalf was going to bring._ “And those lovely fireworks at Midsummer’s Eve celebration.” Bilbo stood up, pipe in his mouth and reached out to clasp Gandalf’s hand. 

Gandalf shook Bilbo’s small hand and leant forward. “There is something strange about you, Bilbo Baggins.”

Sweat gathered on Bilbo’s forehead. Should he tell Gandalf? His old friend was wise, though he knew there were some things better kept to oneself. He didn’t want too much interference, in any case. 

“You’re just surprised I remember your face. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, old friend. How can I help you?” That had been true. Bilbo hadn’t seen Gandalf in a while before his death, through no fault at Gandalf’s. It had been a bright new world, and there had been lots to do. 

“You can help me very much, my dear Bilbo. I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.” Gandalf released Bilbo’s hand, but still leant forward. Waiting for a scandalous reaction, no doubt. Bilbo knew his old friend enjoyed a good dramatic pause. 

Bilbo raised his eyebrows. _This is it._ “And you’ve come to the Shire to look for this someone? My, Gandalf, I wonder if you know Hobbits at all. They would tell you that adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. That they would make you late for dinner.” Bilbo recalled his own words perfectly. It had been something he and Gandalf had looked back on with bittersweet laughter. 

This Gandalf however noticed his exact words. “Would they now? And what about you, mhm? What would you tell me about adventures?” 

Bilbo paused, leaning against the fence. There was a lot he could say. There was a lot to think about, the memories pushing against him. He had too much in his head for someone who was supposed to be only 50 years old!

“That they are life-changing.” He settled on after a minute of thinking. “Why, what do you have in mind?” He asked, sure to look hesitant. It wouldn’t do for a Hobbit to be eager for an adventure, and a Baggins, no less! However Gandalf must have seen through him for he smiled and took a step back.   
  


“I’ll inform the others. We’ll be at yours tonight. Be prepared, my dear friend, Dwarves compete with Hobbits when it comes to how much food they can eat.” Gandalf winked at the small hobbit and left shortly. 

“Mhm, don’t I know it.” He huffed, collecting his mail and going back inside. He closed the door gently, leaning against it and letting out a deep breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He could hear a soft scratching noise coming from outside his door. 

Shaking his head, he turned away and put his mail on the table. Gandalf was vandalizing his door, which he had just painted the other day. He remembered the outrage and panic he had felt. The helplessness. And then, he had heard their song. The song of the dwarves. He had heard Thorin sing. 

He let himself drop onto a chair, trying to calm his beating heart. He would have to face all of his dead companions again. But they weren’t his friends yet, he wasn’t supposed to know these dwarves yet and still- he can’t wait to see them. 

#

He spent the entire day at the market, collecting, preparing and cooking the foods he knew his dwar- _the_ dwarves would love. It would be a while between leaving his house and the feast for the dead at Erebor before they all would have an opportunity for stuffing their faces with warm food. 

He was just on his last pie, decorating it carefully with honey when someone knocked at the door. 

_That will be Dwalin._

Last time, he had been caught off-guard. A simple meal for a bachelor at his table. Now, there was not a single space left on his dining table that wasn’t covered in food. 

He walked to the door, opening it. 

“Dwalin, son of Fundin. At your service.” The intimidating dwarf bowed shortly before Bilbo, his expression dark and fierce. 

Bilbo smiled, “Bilbo Baggins. At yours.” He bowed as well, remembering the proper etiquette. He was happy to see his old friend again, even if he felt he was going to pass out already. 

“Come on in. I assume your companions must be here shortly as well, why don’t you follow me to the dining room?” He closed the door behind Dwalin, gesturing down the hall. 

“You can put your cloak and weapons in here, if you prefer.” He gestured to a small closet next to the dining hall. 

Dwalin was silent, taking off his cloak and weapons, setting them down in the closet. He stayed silent until he saw the massive feast that Bilbo had prepared. If Bilbo hadn’t known Dwalin, he would have assumed Dwalin was being rude. But he knew, Dwalin needed a moment to take in this amount of food. 

“Feel free to start. We don’t know when the others will arrive and it’ll be a shame to let the hot food go cold.” Bilbo waved Dwalin inside. 

“This is quite a feast. Do all hobbits eat like this?” Dwalin asked, restraining himself as he sat down. He knew Dwalin was holding himself back for the sake of Bilbo; a stranger.

“Of course. It would be rude not to prepare for guests. I hear Hobbits and Dwarves have quite the similar appetite. I’ll be honest, I ran out of space or else there would be more food.” He spoke freely with Dwalin. He knew the first time around that Dwalin had not trusted him, Bilbo had been so skittish and nervous. 

Dwalin nodded his head, stuffing his mouth with goose. “A worthy feast.” He commented in between bites. It warmed his heart. 

“Thank you.” Bilbo bowed his head. 

Another knock at the door. 

“Excuse me.” He left, walking quickly to the door. He opened the door to find Balin, resurrected from the chasm of Moria, smiling politely. 

“Balin, son of Fundin. At your service.” A bow followed. 

“Bilbo Baggins. At yours.” He bowed as well, ignoring the lump in his chest. “Please come in, one dwarf has already arrived.” He ushered the old dwarf into his home, motioning towards the hall where Dwalin has come out of the dining room.

“Evening, brother.” Balin walked towards Dwalin with a light step and a laugh. 

“By my beard, you’re shorter and wider than last we met.” Dwalin smirked, opening his arms for Balin. Bilbo watched silently, a hand over his heart. It had been too long, but it was also too much. He looked away. 

“Wider, not shorter.” Balin shook his head, grabbing Dwalin by his shoulders. “Sharp enough for both of us” The two laughed and Bilbo could hear them leaning forward with force and bumping their foreheads together. Only it wasn’t just a bump, but a near **clonk**.

Bilbo couldn’t help a little smile at the familiar greeting. _Dwarves._

The two Dwarves turned into the dining room, laughter echoing around them. Bilbo took a deep breath, pulling himself together. He followed them, a smile on his face. “I do hope you enjoy the food, I made it all myself.” He offered, gesturing around. The table itself was filled with many main dishes- mostly hearty and meat-filled foods he knew the Dwarves cherished. On small tables around the room were pies, almost stacked. Most were freshly made today but some were from the previous days. It had been a very, _very_ busy day. 

“That is impressive. All by yourself?” Balin looked at Bilbo, surprised as he helped himself to some potatoes. 

“Hobbits are known for their cooking skills. And their appetites.” Bilbo chuckled. 

“But you’re so small. Or is that just you?” Dwalin asked, a second helping on his plate. If he hadn’t known better, Bilbo would be insulted. 

“Just because us Hobbits are smaller than you Dwarves does not mean we eat less. In fact, we eat a lot more than you do.” Bilbo leant against the wall, doing his best to remain calm. “Seven meals a day, in fact.”

“Seven!” Dwalin laughed, throwing his head back. Balin’s eyebrows rose up, impressed. “My. It seems we need to brush up on our knowledge of hobbits, brother.” He chuckled. 

Just then, another knock came. Bilbo nodded at the brothers, turning to the door. If he remembered correctly, this would be Fili and Kili. He clenched his hands into fists, taking a slow breath and opening the door. 

“Fili.”  
  


“And Kili.

“At your service.”

The two brothers bowed to Bilbo, and it was like Bilbo had been punched in the gut. He blinked away tears in his eyes, nodding. 

“Bilbo Baggins. At yours.” He bowed to the young dwarves, telling them his proper name before they could get any funny ideas. _Mr. Boggins, indeed._ He let them both enter, pointing them to the closet to set their stuff off. 

“It’s nice, this place.” Kili wandered around, inspecting his surroundings. “Did you do it for yourself?” He put his foot on a wooden box next to the closet, rubbing his sole on it. 

“My father built it for my mother. Please don’t do that.” Bilbo said sternly, fists still clenched. His nails were digging into his palms but it helped ground him. “There are two other dwarves in the dining room, if you wish to join them.” He waved them into the dining room, where Balin and Dwalin had been doing their best to put a dent into the food. But it seemed that Gandalf had been wrong in one thing; Dwarves could not compete with Hobbits when it came to food. 

Dwalin grinned brightly at the two princes, opening his arms to them. Bilbo turned away, leaving the reunion. Another deep breath. He could do this. 

Another knock came from the door and he had to stop himself from laughing; he remembered all to well the tumbling dwarves. He quickly opened the door, just in time for the remaining dwarves to fall over. 

“Get off, you big lump!” one of the voices from below came out.

Gandalf leant forward, looking around and settling on Bilbo. “I assume you prepared a feast for the dwarves?”

“Ha! Gandalf, I prepared a feast for Hobbits.” Bilbo puffed his chest proudly. “There’s a lot more dwarves in my home than I ever expected. What are they doing here?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

One by one, each dwarf stood up, introducing themselves and bowing before Bilbo. His heart ached the longer time went on. His eyes settled on Ori. Young Ori, with bright eyes and a tragic death ahead of him. _Not this time._

“Many dwarves there may be, but we are one dwarf short.” Gandalf murmured as the dwarves made themselves comfortable in Bilbo’s dining room. 

“Oh? And who is the missing dwarf?” Bilbo asked innocently, grabbing a scone from the table. Somehow he had been more nervous and panicking when it was just Dwalin and Balin. Now that there were dwarves all around him, chatting and laughing, he found he forgot himself and his memories. 

“Aye. Our King. He traveled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come. He’s just late.” Dwalin nodded, a pint of ale in his hand and a piece of pie in the other. 

Dori had brought Gandalf and Bilbo two small glasses of red wine, a polite and yet genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.” He nodded at the dwarf. One thing that remained difficult was to refrain from acting familiar. They didn’t know him yet; and he didn’t know them. Officially. 

The dwarves made for a party rather than a feast, food thrown all around. Rather than watching and fussing like he had last time, he turned back to his fireplace, hands on the mantle. Creating a list in his head of the events of the following days, he almost missed the dwarves throwing around his plates. 

He rolled his eyes, a stupid grin on his face. “Don’t do that, you’ll blunt them!” He called out, only half-serious. He couldn’t resist it; the song had been a source of misery at the time and yet he came to be quite fond of it over the years. A lot of things had been a source of misery at the time but he remembered them fondly in any case. 

“Ooh, do you hear that, lads?” Bofur called out, smirking, “He says we’ll blunt the knives!”

And so, Kili strarted them off. 

_Blunt the knives,_

_Bend the forks_

_Smash the bottles_

_And burn the corks_

_Chip the glasses_

_And crack the plates_

_That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

_Really,_ Bilbo thought, _abusing my hospitality. Such awful guests._ He shook his head fondly, watching them throw his dishes around. Some of it had been over a hundred years old! He needn’t have worried though, when he arrived in the kitchen, everything had been stacked perfectly. 

Just then, someone pounded on his door and Bilbo knew it was time to prove whether he could really face this journey once more. 

The jolly mood had disappeared as Gandalf said, “He is here.”

Bilbo and Gandalf walked to the door, opening it to reveal Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain. 

“Gandalf.” He said, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.” Thorin took off his cloack, taking in the warm hobbit hole before his eyes settled on Bilbo. 

“Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thoring Oakenshield.” Gandalf smiled amiably, presenting the tall dwarf. 

“So. This is the hobbit. Tell me, Mister Baggins, have you done much fighting? Ax or sword?” Thorin circled him with calculating eyes and a doubtful smile. Bilbo had not forgotten how small Thorin could make him feel. He squared his shoulders, meeting his eyes rather than curling in on himself. 

He was going to say what he had last time; though he changed his mind in the last second. “A sword. Though I suppose that the sword for Hobbits will be just a _letter-opener_ to you.” He gave Thorin a little smile, throwing off both Gandalf and Thorin. There was a cold shiver running through him but he stood his ground.

Thorin raised an eyebrow in disbelief; the classic Durin look.

_“If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a merrier place.”_

“He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” Thorin huffed, taking a look at the crowd that had gathered behind him then back at Bilbo. 

He was sure he had drawn some blood from his palms, fists still clenched. Maybe this was just how he would have to deal with pig-headed kings who had stolen his heart. 

“I’m sorry that I don’t have a sign on my head that says ‘burglar’ but I doubt that someone that can’t read simple westron signs could read someone like me.” He huffed, a rush of anger rushing through him. It had been the same pig-headedness that had cost Thorin his life. He didn’t meant to put Thorin in his place, least of all in front of his people but he couldn’t help it. 

Gandalf watched the scene unfold, both amused and intrigued at the two people circling each other. He would have to take Bilbo to the side later, he did not forget his comment about the sword. 

Thorin took a step back, raising both eyebrows now. He had not expected the hobbit to bite back. Whether to be infuriated or apologetic, he settled for somewhere in between. His mother didn’t raise a rude dwarf and he _had_ just insulted his host. 

He bowed shortly in front of Bilbo, gritting through his teeth, “My apologies, Mister Baggins. Forgive my harsh and rash judgement.”

Bilbo also took a step back, pleasantly surprised. The anger fell out of him, replaced with a warm, fuzzy feeling. _No!_

“Apology accepted. I am sorry, too.” Bilbo said softly, almost too quiet for Thorin to hear. 

“Well then. Shall we begin?” Gandalf leant on the wall, ducking his head down. 


	2. A lesson in Hobbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hamfast! What are they saying now?” He called and Hamfast, grumbling, walked on over to him. The other dwarves watched, bemused. 
> 
> “That you’re an odd fellow, Master Bilbo.” Hamfast shook his head, “With dwarves. Where are you off to, then?” 
> 
> Bilbo tapped his nose, grinning at the other Hobbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! I realize that ten chapters is NOT gonna be enough for this story, but i'll expand it soon once i have a better idea just how many chapters it will take me!! buckle in though this will be a hell of a ride

  
  
  


“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin asked, a calm dwarf with only the slightest hint at his worry. They were all crowded around the almost empty dining table. Thorin, the last one eating, looked at Balin, grim. 

“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms. But they will not join us. Dain is not with us. They say this quest is ours and ours alone.” Thorin spoke, disappointed yet firmly. He knew what to expect from the other kingdoms. He wasn’t a fool, he knew the risks of this journey. Still, a small part of him had hoped. 

Bilbo saw this as the right opportunity to inquire- after all, he didn’t officially know yet. “You’re going on a quest?”

“Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.” Gandalf stood slowly, unfolding an old piece of parchment. “Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak.” The wizard spoke with a certain gravitas to his voice; this was all for Bilbo’s sake. The others already knew what Gandalf spoke of. 

“Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time.” Gloin said, dedicated and nodding firmly. Bilbo knew how much he loved and trusted his brother, but anyone could see it from the way Gloin looked proudly at his brother next to him.

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold.” Oin nodded, leaning forward to look directly at Thorin. “‘When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.’ It’s now or never.” 

Bilbo stood still for a second, staring at the map laid out in front of Thorin and Gandalf. As if on command, Gandalf looked up at Bilbo with his eyebrows raised. 

He pretended to cough, “Uh, what beast?” Bilbo feigned shocked disinterest. He would have to watch out for Gandalf’s knowing eyes. Maybe it was better for Gandalf to know.

“That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne firebreather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.” Bofur smiled, raising his pipe towards Bilbo. 

_Well, Thief, I smell you._

Bilbo could remember Smaug’s voice perfectly. Haunting and powerful, it still shook him to his core. He had been barely a flea compared to the size of the dragon; even lesser when it came to power itself. He would have to face him again but this time he would have more courage.

“Yes, I know what a dragon is.” Bilbo snapped suddenly, the memories weighing heavy on him. 

_I can hear your breath._

Ori stood up, a bright smile on his face, “I’m not afraid. I’m up for it. I’ll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!” 

“Good lad, Ori!” Nori shouted, laughing and waving his pipe at his younger brother. 

Dori, on the other hand, harrumphed and tugged Ori to sit down. 

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen.” Balin interrupted the shouts. “And not thirteen of the best, nor brightest.” Which prompted another round of shouts. 

Fili stood up, thumping his hand on the table. “We may be few in number, but we’re fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!”

Kili chimed in, enthusiastic, “And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time! Right, Gandalf?” 

_Fili and Kili lay next to each other. As they lived in life, so they were in death, always united. Dis sobbed, clutching both of her sons. Bilbo couldn’t bear to watch her._

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t-” Gandalf held up a hand, flustered at the sudden attention on his dragon-killing skills. Thorin watched the wizard carefully, with narrow eyes. 

“How many, then? How many dragons have you killed?” Dori asked, eyebrows raised. 

Gandalf stayed silent, choking slowly on the smoke from his pipe as the dwarves urged him on. The shouting broke out again, indistinct words everywhere. 

Thorin rose, “Hwatum!” and silence fell. “If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them, too?” He stood, shoulders heavy. Bilbo watched him, taking everything in. The memories were threatening to flood him, but staring at Thorin grounded him. But this was not his Thorin, and he must remember that. 

The King continued, oblivious to the Hobbit’s staring. “Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor, take back our home?” This earned him a cheer from the other dwarves. 

Thorin knew how to rile his dwarves up. 

“There is one thing we must remember. The Front Gate is sealed. We have no way of getting into the mountain.” Balin held his hand up as Thorin sat down. This dimmed the mood again. 

Gandalf smiled softly, “That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” he brought a key from his sleeve, twirling it in his fingers. It was quite heavy-looking with a dwarfish design. Bilbo would know it anywhere. 

This played out almost exactly to his memory. This was a good sign. So far he hasn’t disturbed the universe and could expect the next thing to happen as he remembers it. And he remembers Thorin’s distrust too well. 

“How came you by this?” Thorin asked, shocked and even more distrustful than before.

“It was given to me by your father.” Gandalf said simply, still holding the key up. He watched Thorin carefully, just as Thorin had him. “By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now.” He placed the key in Thorin’s hand. The company watched in awe as it became clear; they had a way in. 

Just as Fili said, “If there is a key, there must be a door.”

Gandalf nodded, pointing to the map. “There is a hidden passage that leads to the lower halls.”

Kili leant forward, his enthusiasm still as bright as ever. “There’s another way in.” Quiet, and hopeful. 

Gandalf held his hand up, to prevent Kili from being too enthusiastic. “Well, if can find it. Remember, Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer is hidden somewhere in this map, but I do not have the skill to find it.” 

Bilbo nodded, watching Gandalf. He must have planned to lead them to Rivendell early. He felt a rush of nostalgia at the thought. He would see Elrond again, and he couldn’t help but smile softly. 

“But there are others in Middle-earth who can.” Gandalf looked expectantly at Thorin. “The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage.” He looked at Bilbo pointedly. “But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done.” 

“That’s why we need a Buglar!” Ori shouted, and everyone turned to stare at Bilbo, who simply humpfed. 

“Mhm, yeah. You will. You’ll need an expert one, too.” He fiddled with his suspenders, nodding towards the map. 

“And are you?” Gloin asked impatiently. 

“I can’t say that I have burgled a dragon before, but I would say that I do have some skill you require.” He shrugged, careful with his words. 

Oin misheard him though, purposefully or not, “He said he’s an expert! Hey!” He cheered, laughing. 

Bilbo sighed, “No- I never said I’m an expert-”

Balin looked at Bilbo for a second then turned to Thorin, “I can’t imagine he will be a great burglar. No offense, laddie.”

Dwalin stared at Bilbo, almost unreadable. “Aye, the Wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” 

Bilbo levelled him with an equally hard stare. He had not lived 130 years and seen what he had seen to be disrespected again. “Good thing I’m not gentle folk who can’t fight for themselves. Just because I’m not an intimidating dwarf means I’m without strengths.” He forced himself to unclench his fists, blood under his nails and marks in his palms. 

Shouting errupted again, everyone screaming something different. Some were for Bilbo; some were against. He couldn’t tell. 

A shadow spread from Gandalf as he stood and shouted, “Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is.” The shadow rescinded back to Gandalf, who spoke calmly now. “Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. Have you ever seen a Hobbit outside of the Shire? And, while the dragon is accustomed to the small of Dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage.” He sat back down, releasing a deep breath. 

“You asked me to find the 14th member of this company, and I have chosen Mister Baggins.There’s a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he’s got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including myself.” He leant forward to Thorin, a stern tone to his voice now. “You must trust me on this.”

Thorin, not entirely convinced that Bilbo would be able to steal from a dragon, nodded. “Very well. We will do it your way.” He motioned to Balin, “Give him the contract.”

Balin stood up, handing the contract over to Bilbo. “It’s just the usual. Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth.”

Bilbo took the contract from Balin, reading it through. “Right.” he mumbled. In the end, his share had caused Thorin to almost kill him and banish him. He looked at Thorin who in turn was watching him. 

They held eye contact for a moment, taking each other in for a moment. Bilbo had no doubt that Thorin still held a poor view of him. And wasn’t that the cruel irony? Bilbo travelled through time to relive his life in order to save Thorin, who had called him a Grocer not an hour ago. 

Thorin turned back to Gandalf, whispering something. Bilbo could not hear but he could guess what it was. He wandered away from the dining table, reading through the ways of how Smaug could kill him. Last time he had read this, he had fainted in front of everyone. And had _that_ not eviscerated all the respect for him. 

“So? What do ye think?” Bofur asked curiously. 

Bilbo looked up, turning back to the table. He suddenly felt very old, suddenly felt very much like his real age. But this had only been the beginning. 

“I’ll sign it.”

#

The dwarves settled in his living room, sat around the fire roaring in the fireplace. A somber mood had set in after he signed the contract. It seemed his fate was sealed, not only his, but the company’s. This was really happening. Bilbo watched the dwarves chatter between them, not yet familiar enough with him to include him. He wasn’t hurt, not really. He remembered how difficult it had been to earn their trust and their smiles. Once you had a dwarf’s trust, it was a precious- _no_ , _not that word_ \- thing to keep.

For a fleeting moment, Bilbo yearned for the golden ring, the power that it had given him. A small creature like him, with an advantage. But it had come at a terrible price; it had robbed him of his heart. And it had broken Frodo.

A cold edge settled in his heart at that thought. He would do anything to protect Frodo. He knew some things were set in stone; perhaps Frodo had always been destined to be the Ring-bearer of Middle Earth. But he had also seen the aftermath, the dead look in his boy’s eyes. Maybe this was not Frodo’s burden to bear.

“You appear to be deep in thought, lad. What could a Hobbit be thinking so deeply about?” Gloin gruffed from next to him, causing Bilbo to step back in surprise.

Bilbo cleared his throat, frowning. “You’d be surprised, Master Dwarf. Perhaps I have not yet met a dragon before, but I still have my demons to battle. A comfortable life is a gift given to us by Lady Yavannah, but she cannot protect us from everything.” He said in a stern tone. These dwarves needed to learn that others had troubles too. Too often had they been under the impression that a Hobbit’s life was nothing but resting and eating. And while they certainly had their share of resting and eating, Hobbits knew of death and trauma too.

“What kind of demons plague Hobbits, Master Baggins?” Ori shuffled around, huddling with Fili and Kili. His tone was softer, less accusing but rather curious.

Even before this journey, Bilbo had known grief too well. “While we may not have to deal with orcs and dragons, we still have to deal with beasts.” He knew every member of the company was looking at him. He could especially feel Thorin’s eyes on him. “My-” He paused. Could he really bring himself to tell them this? “My mother was killed by a beast.” He walked towards the fire, his mother’s portrait hanging above the mantle. She had been the perfect Hobbit lass, and a better mother. A bittersweet smile covered his face, continuing.

“Winters can be rather harsh around here. While the summer is bright and hot, the winter is dry and fruitless. Cold. The river freezes over, sometimes.” He sighed, still not looking around but rather focusing on his mother’s portrait. “One winter, when I was still a child, was so bad that we ran out of food. Usually the Thains of Shire are very good at rationing and distributing the food, but not this winter. We call it a ‘Fell Winter’ now. When it’s so cold that our hobbit holes freeze, and the ice crawls up the walls and cover each home. That’s when wolves come out of the forest, starving and looking for anything to eat.”

There was dead silence, except for his voice and the crackle of the fire. Tears were forming in his eyes, but he carried on.

“My mother, a Took, had enough. She was watching me and my father wither away. Helpless. The ice and the wolves surrounding us with no food. She knew that the Thain of Hobbiton had food stashed away. There was no way for them to reach us, she said, so we have to reach them.” He huffed at the faded memory. His mother had seemed larger than life with her courage.

“She used to travel, you know. One of the only Hobbits to leave the Shire for an adventure and return. So she grabbed her cloak, her sword she had received as a gift to keep safe and left. She was gone for two days before the ice thawed and someone came to our door. Food had arrived, I couldn’t believe it. The Thain had reached every home. But still, no sign of my mother. My father left me with my grandfather and went out to search for her.”

He couldn’t bear to look at her mother anymore and turned around. The entire company stared at him. Some had sympathy in their eyes. Others had shock. Thorin, however, remained neutral. Bilbo looked up at Gandalf, who already knew what had happened.

“They found her, dead. Her body was frozen to the earth, it seemed that Yavanna did not want to give her back. Around her were three dead wolves. Her sword, stuck in the head of the one closest to her.” It had been a long time since he had told anyone the story of Belladonna Took’s death. The last person he had told had been Frodo, when Frodo had been old enough to hear. The two had bonded over the loss of their parents, given them something to hold onto.

He had never told the dwarves this. Not in his last life. He wondered, had he told them, if they would have judged Hobbits (and him) differently.

The following cries told him that they would have.

“Your mother was a warrior! Three whole wolves by herself!”

“You must be so proud to be her son!”

“A valiant fighter, protecting her family.”

“She saved the Shire!”

The dwarves all stood up, crowding Bilbo. It was easy to swallow his tears when there was such a warm reception; a complete change from earlier. Belladonna would have loved to have so many dwarves in her home. She would have loved to meet them.

Thorin stood up finally and walked towards Bilbo, the other dwarves parting to let him through. “It is always tough to lose a parent. But she died an honourable death. Let that comfort you.” He nodded at Bilbo.

It had always been a tough subject, torn between the loss and the respect he held for his mother. A hobbit, defeating wolves? It had been incredible. But it had also cost her her life. It had cost him his mother. And later, it had been what had taken his father.

Bilbo wiped away a tear, turning away from the company.

“Now, should we indulge our dear Burglar with a ballad about our own demons?” Fili offered, looking around, eyes landing on Thorin, as if asking for permission.

Thorin simply nodded, turning to sit down on the armchair he had been on previously. He started them off, his low and powerful voice carrying the melody.

_Far over the misty mountains cold_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away ere break of day_

_To seek the pale enchanted gold._

_The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,_

_While hammers fell like ringing bells_

_In places deep, where dark things sleep,_

_In hollow halls beneath the fells._

#

“Make sure you pack light. Only pack necessities.” Gandalf nodded, watching Bilbo trudge in between rooms. Between setting the dwarves up in his extra guest rooms and packing his own pack, he was quite busy. 

“I will.” He nodded, making a list in his head. He needed to write to Hamfast and ensure that Bag End wouldn’t be pillaged by his greedy neighbours. He also needed to write to Drogo. 

This took all evening. But by the time he went to bed, he had written two letters, packed very practically and light and ensure everyone had a comfy spot to sleep in. Walking back to his bedroom, he found Thorin wandering in the hallway. 

Biting back a remark about lost kings, he instead asked politely, “Can I help you?”

Thorin turned around, a grim look on his face. He was not happy to be caught, lost in a hobbit hole. “There’s a lot of tunnels. Twisting and turning. All made of wood. Dwarves are meant for stone tunnels.” He grumbled. “This is very good worksmanship.”

Bilbo smiled at Thorin’s compliment. “Thank you. My father built it for my mother as a wedding gift. It takes some time getting used to, especially for dwarves made for stone.” Bilbo nodded at Thorin to follow him and he led him back to the guest room for Thorin. 

“I noticed you didn’t add a sword to your pack.” Thorin turned around after opening the door slightly, a slight grin on his lips.

Bilbo matched his grin, “You are correct. I haven’t. We buried my mother with her sword. It seemed the only right thing to do. It was her own, after all. And so far, there hasn't been a need for another sword for me. Don’t you worry, Master Oakenshield, swords have a habit of falling into my hands at opportune moments.”

“Do they now?” Thorin leant against the doorframe. “I’m sorry about your mother, Master Baggins. Did your father teach you any sword skills?” The grin dropped from his face, sobering up.

“I didn’t learn any sword skills from my father. I learnt from someone else.” Bilbo gave him a small smile. He thought back on all the times he had needed his trusty _Sting_. It had been too many times for a formerly respectable Hobbit like himself, and yet it had never failed him. By the time he had passed Sting onto Frodo, he had wielded it well. Hopefully, his arms would remember it when the Company will stumble upon it.

“I hope they taught you well. I will not be responsible for your death, if you fall because you couldn’t defend yourself.” Thorin said harshly, any warmth gone from his eyes.

Bilbo frowned, taken aback by the sudden change of his mood. “Understood. Good evening.” He turned around and left Thorin behind, hurrying off to his own bedroom.

Now, alone with his thoughts, he could feel every single emotion threatening to well up. Throwing himself onto his bed, he curled up with the duvet wrapped around him. He had made it through the day. This is how he needed to do it; one day at a time. 

He closed his eyes, the dead bodies of Thorin, Fili and Kili swimming in front of him. It would be easy to give in and cry; to lament. But he had a lifetime of lament behind him, he didn’t feel like wasting this one lamenting something that hadn’t happened yet. And would not, if Bilbo could stop it. 

#

The next morning was a rush. He woke up early, dazed and confused. It took him a second to process what had happened yesterday. He was young again. Thorin, Fili and Kili live. Frodo is not yet born. He hadn’t slept well, his dreams marred with running endlessly, no destination but he had been running from something. Someone?

Bilbo collected himself, dressing in his best travelling gear and wandering into the kitchen. It must have just been dawn; no one else was awake yet. He knew they had left him early last time, but this time it seemed he awoke before them. 

Preparing a huge breakfast, the smell of food awoke the other dwarves. Bombur offered his help to Bilbo. “I’m a little bit of a chef, myself, Master Baggins.” He smiled brightly at the small hobbit. Bilbo nodded, “I am sure you are, Master Bombur. Help would very much be appreciated.” Dori and Ori wandered over, setting the table and preparing tea. They worked well together, small talk polite and appropriate with a curious edge. 

“Balin told me that Hobbits eat seven meals a day! Is that true, Master Baggins?” Ori asked, curbing his curiosity, the shy dwarf staring at Bilbo, almost unconvinced. 

“Yes, that is true. Some days we have eight meals a day, even.” Bilbo nodded. Those were his favourite days in the Shire. He won’t have them for a while, though. “Food is very important for Hobbits, Master Ori.”

Ori’s eyes widened, stopped in his actions. “Really? Eight? But you’re so small!” 

Bilbo frowned, “We’re the same size, Ori. Hobbits don’t grow tall, we grow wide.” He chuckled, “That is something dwarves and hobbits have in common, don’t you think?” 

Bombur nodded, rubbing his stomach. “A very wise point, Master Baggins.” 

#

WIth breakfast served, the other dwarves shuffled in. Dreary-eyed, yet ready already to leave. How had they left him so quietly last time? 

Gandalf walked in, a neutral look on his face. Which Bilbo knew it meant he was thinking deeply. Was he too obvious? Surely, a wizard like Gandalf would be able to see that Bilbo had been gifted by the Valar. 

“How kind of you, Bilbo.” Gandalf nodded, sitting down at the table. “I didn’t realize we were going to have such a big breakfast before our leave.” 

Bilbo shrugged, “It might be a while before we have the chance to properly eat. We might as well. Besides, Master Bombur, Dori and Ori were very helpful. I have to say, Master Bombur’s cooking skills would earn him much respect in the Shire.” He nodded at Bombur, smiling. 

He remembered just how vital Bombur had been on the journey, sometimes the only thing that kept them going had been Bombur’s cooking. He also remembered how the other dwarves were not as appreciative as they should be. A good cook was hard to come by on the road. 

Bombur blushed, if he could be any redder, and bowed his head toward Bilbo. “Kind words, Master Baggins.” Bofur nodded approvingly, as if what Bilbo had just said, had settled something in his mind. 

Thorin appeared, dressed and ready to leave but he stopped and took in the scene before him. “A small breakfast would have sufficed.” He grunted, but nevertheless he dropped in a chair between Dwalin and Balin. 

Bilbo shook his head, finishing off his plate. “It’s the least I could do. A proper send off for all of us.”

“We have ponies waiting for us at the edge of Hobbiton. We ought to get going soon.” Balin, finishing off his plate, stood up. And with that, the others quickly finished and proceeded to re-enact their plate-throwing song as they had the night before. 

This time, though, Bilbo did not give them the pleasure of fussing. He simply watched, quiet. Pensive. He caught Thorin’s eyes, and as if burnt, quickly looked away. If he was to make it through his entire life again, he ought to have a few good memories to keep him going. And this qualified. The younger dwarves, Fili, Kili and Ori, laughed and shouted, throwing the plates to each other. 

#

There had been a small crowd outside of Bag End as the Company and Gandalf left. Hamfast was outside as well, trying to disperse the crowd. Bilbo threw his head back, laughing. 

“Hamfast! What are they saying now?” He called and Hamfast, grumbling, walked on over to him. The other dwarves watched, bemused. 

“That you’re an odd fellow, Master Bilbo.” Hamfast shook his head, “With dwarves. Where are you off to, then?” 

Bilbo tapped his nose, grinning at the other Hobbit. Hamfast had always been good to him and Frodo. He ought to bring back something for his friend. “I’m going on an adventure. Look after Bag End, will you? I wrote you a letter but I suppose it’s better you were here now. I don’t want any Sackville-Bagginses weaseling their way into my home.” He looked sharply at Lobelia, who was at the front of the crowd. 

He gave the key to Hamfast, ensuring everyone watched. Hamfast nodded, pocketing the key. “Alright, Master Bilbo. Do come back, though, sunday evening conkers won’t be as much fun without you.” He huffed and pulled the younger Hobbit into a tight hug. 

“We must get going.” Thorin shouted and the crowd of Hobbit parted at the fierce King. Bilbo nodded, hugging Hamfast back and pulling away. Gandalf tipped his hat at the incredulous crowd and so, the company was on its way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hwatum- Listen
> 
> a couple things:
> 
> most of the dialogue is taken directly from the movies as its not yet canon divergence. As we diverge more from canon, obviously the dialogue will be different. 
> 
> there's no official story on how bilbo's parents died? i checked the lotr wiki but it didnt say, i think its pretty much accepted in fanon that this is how belladonna took died// i read it somewhere and i loved it
> 
> Next chapter will be posted friday; 7th february


	3. Take Heart, Master Baggins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili nodded, watching the Hobbit with sharp eyes. He could tell that the thought of these orcs frightened Bilbo. “They strike in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep.” They didn’t know that this fear had a specific reason. “Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood.” Kili looked back to his brother, almost giggling. 
> 
> Thorin fixed them with a hard glare, standing up and walking towards Bilbo. “You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” He put a hand on the small of Bilbo’s back, a fleeting comfort as he walked past him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DANG! this chapter is hella long, but i think the average word count for each chapter will be around 5000 words? I want to go through it thoroughly, though i don't want to hang onto things too much at the same time!

The first day went by faster than Bilbo should have liked. Gandalf kept glancing at him, and he had an unreadable expression on his face. Of course, Gandalf knew exactly how to keep his thoughts secret but Bilbo had learnt how to read his moods. Now, he had no idea what the wizard could be thinking. Was he suspicious of Bilbo?

Apart from Gandalf’s stares, he also had to deal with Thorin’s stares. He wasn’t sure they were the soft, curious looks that Ori gave him or the amused side-glances from Bofur when he had been chatting with Bombur about the best ways to cook rabbit. They were harsher, and distrustful. 

Bilbo sighed, unpacking his bedroll for the night. Bombur and Bofur had set up a little fireplace in the middle of the camp, cooking some dinner. Fili and Kili were in charge of tying the ponies to the trees, making sure they wouldn’t run off. The others were settling in, the Ri brothers all laying next to each other. Gloin and Oin had set up next to each other. Bifur had pulled out some wood to whittle on, Bofur’s and Bombur’s bed roll next to him. 

Thorin, Dwalin and Balin were sat away from the fire, in deep conversation with occasional glances throughout the company. 

He remembered how long it had taken the dwarves to warm up to him. An outsider, disliked by the leader. It had been difficult. Once Thorin had stopped seeing him as a burden, it had been much easier, the sudden camaraderie easing the journey. He couldn’t wait for that part of the journey. 

"Gandalf settled next to him, taking out his pipe and lighting it with his finger. He puffed for a while, in companionable silence as Bombur beckoned everyone to get some dinner. 

“This will be a long journey, won’t it Gandalf?” Bilbo sighed into his bowl as the others ate, gathered in their small groups. 

“Yes, it will. Take heart, Bilbo, it won’t be this way for a while. Dwarves are very secretive in nature. It’s nothing personal.” Gandalf smiled, inhaling the contents of his bowl almost. 

“I know. I just hope they’ll open up sooner rather than later. Bombur’s a nice chap.” Bilbo nodded.

“Yes, he is. You two seem to have found something in common.”

“I think the way to get dwarves to open will be food, and talking about family. I’ve a sense they care deeply for both. Almost as deeply as Hobbits care for food.” Bilbo winked at the wizard, who chuckled knowingly. 

“How was your first day without seven meals, then?” Gandalf puffed his pipe again, leaning against the tree he had set up next to. 

That hadn’t crossed his mind once. He had been too focused on settling in between his estranged and dead companions. 

“Oh, you know. It was tough. But I did well enough, I suppose. I packed a few snacks for myself.” Bilbo patted his pack, finishing his dinner. He took out his pipe and held it forward for Gandalf, who raised an eyebrow at him but still lit the pipe with his finger. 

“There’s something odd about you, Bilbo Baggins.” He finally said after silence had set in between the two. 

Bilbo choked on that, coughing. “Wha-what ever do you mean?” 

“You’re not the Hobbit I expected. You didn’t complain once about the horse hair- and I know your nose has something against it.” Gandalf tipped his pipe at Bilbo. 

Bilbo shrugged, pressing his lips together in thought. “I brought my handkerchief, I suppose, there wasn’t much of a problem. Besides, I could hardly walk to Erebor myself, even though I would prefer it.” He chuckled. The last time, it hadn’t been ten minutes before he had complained about Myrtle. Bofur had ripped off a part of his shirt for him to use as a handkerchief. 

_   
_ _ “We cannot wait for you to rest from walking, Master Baggins. It would take too much time that we cannot spare. Either ride on the pony, or turn back.” _ had been what Thorin had said after he had told them that Hobbits walked everywhere. The memory sat deep in his mind, a funny feeling in his stomach. Was he not acting appropriately enough as a Hobbit for Gandalf?

“Hobbits walk everywhere, after all.” Bilbo sighed, rubbing his foot. While his youthful body had minimal complaints about riding on a pony, he had felt worn and tired from the day. 

“Is that why your feet are so leathery?” Ori had approached Bilbo slowly, though Bilbo had not noticed. He looked up at the young dwarf and smiled amiably. 

“Yes, indeed. I used to take walking holidays, all the way to Bree.” Bilbo gestured for Ori to sit down with him. Ori held multiple pieces of parchment, all bound together for a makeshift notebook. 

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, Master Baggins, Master Gandalf. I was just so curious about Hobbits, would it be alright for me to ask you some more questions?” He asked, as polite and shy as ever. 

Bilbo nodded, and he couldn’t help but smile surprised. It had taken at least another couple of days for Ori to approach him like this. Maybe his openness this time around would be reciprocated more easily. 

“Of course, Master Ori. And please, Master Baggins was my father. Call me Bilbo.”

“Alright, Bilbo. Then you must call me Ori, for I am no Master of anything but for my craft.”   
  


Bilbo knew too well about Dwarves and their craft, the pride of their lives almost. 

“What is your craft, then?” Bilbo inhaled some smoke, creating small rings after he asked his question. 

“I am a scribe. Balin took me on as his apprentice. He tasked me with documenting this quest. And I thought, where better to start with our burglar? We know so little about Hobbits.” Ori took out his quill and dipped it in a small pot of ink he had set on the floor. 

“That’s very well, then. I know dwarves can be very secretive and very much against outsiders. Hobbits are very similar in that respect. Usually, Hobbits don’t leave the Shire, and if they do, they don’t go past Bree.” Bilbo chuckled. He had gone past Bree many times, earning him the title of Mad Baggins very easily. 

“Really? Why is that?” Ori wrote this down. Bilbo could feel sharp eyes watching him. He didn’t need to look up to know it was Thorin’s eyes. 

“The Shire is our home. Hobbits don’t leave their homes if they can help it. A lot of Hobbits would say that the world has nothing to offer us. I’ve never shared the opinion, and neither has my mother. Us Tooks have always had a rather mad streak in the family, if the gossip of other Hobbits is to be believed.” Bilbo rolled his eyes, laughing good-naturedly to cover the bitterness in his tone. 

“Tooks? Is that a tribe?” Ori paused his quill, looking at Bilbo with confused eyes. 

Bilbo shook his head, “Not quite. It’s a family, very big family. Hobbits are mostly divided into three categories; the Harfoots, the Stoors and the Fallohides. Most Hobbits are Harfoots, and you’ll hardly find a Stoor in the Shire. They mostly settled near Tharbad. You’ll never be able to find a Fallohide on this side of the mountains. My father was a Baggins, also a very big family, but my mother came from the Tooks.” He explained to Ori, watching him write this down eagerly. 

The rest of the night went like this; Bilbo would tell him more and more about Hobbits and the Shire, watching him scribble notes down and Ori would ask him about specifics. He didn’t end up telling him anything that was a secret, in any case. In his last life, he had told Ori all of this as well. And just like his last life, Ori had this spark in his eyes as he was writing. It warmed his heart to see his friend like this. 

Dori eventually joined them, curious to see what Ori was doing with the Hobbit. As soon as Dori joined, Bilbo moved onto topics he knew Dori would enjoy. He felt a bit false, with his knowledge of the dwarves and their interests but he couldn’t help himself. Secret knowledge, or not, anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that Dori and Ori shared a love for knitting and sewing. 

Gandalf had moved on to join Thorin, Dwalin and Balin as he had no interest in knitting. Bilbo was sure though, that Gandalf threw him a couple of secret glances again. This time, though, they were much warmer. Bilbo knew Gandalf suspected something. It seemed for now, though, his secret was safe from wizard meddling. 

#

And so, the Company settled into a routine. They would eat a small breakfast at dawn and ride allday. They would make camp around lunch for a short break, stretching limbs. They would continue riding, no matter the weather. They would stop for the night late in the evening and make dinner. This was the time when Bilbo secretly watched Thorin. Though he had made friends with Bombur, Dori and Ori, they were still unsure of his position in the company as Thorin still regarded Bilbo as an outsider. And so, they mostly left him alone save for the late night conversations. 

Gandalf, thankfully, didn’t say anything though he noticed Bilbo’s stares. Self-restraint had never been one of his strong points, anyway. Not when he was young, neither when he was old. And now, that Bilbo had time to take in all of Thorin, he did. He had lived for so long, after Thorin’s death, lived for so long with Thorin haunting him in his sleep. Frodo knew of his book that he had written specifically for this journey, but he never knew of Bilbo’s secret sketchbook, filled with attempts to replicate cold, hard stares filled with a mixture of pride and destiny. Filled with icy blue eyes, trying to find the exact shade. 

Now that he could see both of these again, he knew he could never find the right shade, never find the right expression. He hadn’t been a talented artist, could never count art amongst his skills, but he had tried his best. 

He knew he was being pathetic. If Frodo could see him right now, he would laugh in his face, “Uncle, there’s honey dripping from your eyes!” He would say. But Frodo hadn’t been born yet, and no one could judge him for watching Thorin. 

He stood up after everyone had gone to sleep, Fili and Kili on watch, stretching slightly. He made his way round to his pony, sneaking her an apple. “Shh, who’s a good girl?” he smiled, stroking down her face. “You mustn’t tell anyone else.” He joked, leaning in close. 

Howling, in the distance.  _ Azog.  _

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Bilbo swallowed down his fear. He knew what mighty an enemy the pale Orc was; taking the Durins from him. He quickly turned around, walking back towards the fire. He turned around again, looking out into the horizon. 

_ Where was he now? Was he plotting already? _

“What, the sound of Orcs?” Fili looked up, pipe in hand. Kili sat forward, a dark grin on his face. Thorin, who had been on the verge of sleeping, quickly sat up as well.

“Throat-cutters.” Fili looked at his brother, “There’ll be dozen out there. The lone-lands crawling with them.”

Kili nodded, watching the Hobbit with sharp eyes. He could tell that the thought of these orcs frightened Bilbo. “They strike in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep.” They didn’t know that this fear had a specific reason. “Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood.” Kili looked back to his brother, almost giggling. 

Thorin fixed them with a hard glare, standing up and walking towards Bilbo. “You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” He put a hand on the small of Bilbo’s back, a fleeting comfort as he walked past him. 

“We didn’t mean anything by it.” The two young dwarves look at their uncle with puppy dog eyes, but it didn’t work as Thorin walked away. 

“No, you didn’t. You should know better than to try and scare our master burglar with wargs.” He looked at Bilbo, with a hint of warmth, then stood by the ponies, looking out onto the world below the cliffs they had camped on. Bilbo looked after him, his mouth slightly open, slightly shocked. Those words had been for him. 

_ Too early. _

Balin walked over towards the brothers, sighing. “Be mindful of what you say, lads. Orcs are a troubling subject for many. Especially for Thorin.”

And here comes the story; the cause for Thorin’s hatred and hurt, the cause for future deaths. Bilbo listened half-heartedly to Balin’s words, to the moment where Thorin became who he was, who he was always meant to be. But Bilbo couldn’t take his eyes off of Thorin, even when he turned around to see the whole Company looking at him. 

But Thorin’s eyes never drifted away from Bilbo’s. 

#

It was raining heavily the next day. Gandalf denied the request to change the weather, but Bilbo wasn’t sure he had a power to change nature even if he wished he could. He hadn’t packed anything to protect him from the rain the last time, slipping on his coat as he ran out the door. This time, he had brought an overcoat meant to keep water out. 

He couldn’t enjoy it much as he gave it to Kili, who had forgotten his somewhere. Being so young, he could easily withstand the rain but he was complaining and Bilbo had a weak heart. He didn’t miss the surprised look from Thorin nor the grateful words of Fili but he said nothing, riding on.

That had been the deciding factor for the brothers, to accept the burglar, and to not leave him alone anymore. The rain didn’t stop at all but it was more bearable with Fili on one side and Kili on the other. They didn’t say anything, the rain too loud for normal conversation, but it was a comfort nonetheless. 

The rain stopped in the evening and the Company settled in a small clearing in the forest. Gandalf was gracious enough to set up a nice, big fire for them to dry off on. Bilbo, shivering, was huddled by Fili and Kili. 

“Have you travelled much, then?” Bilbo asked the young dwarves. He knew the answer already but Bilbo knew it was important to ask these questions anyway. It’d be too suspicious if he knew too much. 

“No, nothing like this! Uncle Thorin took us on small hunting trips when we were growing up.” Kili smiled brightly at the memory. 

“You weren’t born at Erebor, were you, Master Dwarves?” Bilbo closed his eyes, enjoying the intense heat from the fire. He wasn’t drying as quickly as he’d hoped, the damp clothes becoming more warm than dry. 

“That’s right. We were born in the Blue Mountains, where our ma met our da. We’ve never seen our ancestral home.” Fili sighed, taking off his outer coat for his normal coat to dry. 

“You will. It may be a while, but you will.” Bilbo nodded, smiling to himself. 

“You really believe so, Master Baggins?” Kili’s voice was small yet hopeful. 

The Hobbit sighed. “It’s just Bilbo, lads. No need for formality.” He put his arms around the other two. Their shivering was enough to shake him. “And yes, I do. It’s why I joined.”

“We were wondering why a Hobbit would risk his life for a couple of dwarves and their crazy dream.” Fili mumbled, leaning his head on the Hobbit. It didn’t take much for the young dwarves to feel familiar with Bilbo. It had always been an easy friendship between the three. 

“It is crazy, don’t get me wrong. Fighting a dragon? It would seem impossible. But it is your destiny, is it not? To take back your home.” He sighed. It was such a heavy question, how was he to truly explain it? He didn’t have to justify himself until they had been in the cave in the Misty Mountains. It was all happening much too early. 

He looked up, meeting Thorin’s eyes again, across the fire. Could he hear his words? Fili nudged him and he looked to his side. 

“Thank you, Bilbo. I think you will be vital to this journey yet. Especially if it stops Kili from whining so much.” He reached around to hit Kili’s back.Kili protested, reaching around Bilbo to hit Fili back. 

He could hear a familiar chuckle from across the fire as he broke it up, holding either dwarf apart. 

#

They carried on the next day, riding throughout the day. It had stopped raining but the air was still heavy with dew. Bilbo knew what they would come across before Thorin discovered it, and yet it still shocked him. A burnt house, with charred wood scattered across the grass around it. 

What was new, and what shocked him, were the clothes scattered across the house. Bilbo swallowed as he spotted blood on the clothes. Did the Trolls take the people away? Last time, there had been no trace of trolls. 

He could hear Thorin and Gandalf arguing; whether they should go to Rivendell or not. He turned around, walking quickly towards Gandalf who was storming away from Thorin. 

“Gandalf, where are you going?” Bilbo looked up at the wizard, trying to stop him from leaving. 

“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense!” Gandalf bristled, an angry tone in his voice. 

Bilbo sighed, “And who would that be?”

“Me.” Gandalf huffed, sparing a glance over his shoulder at Thorin who was glaring at the both of them. 

“Gandalf, please. Have a look at that house. There’s bloody clothes on the floor, and I mean bloody. It’s not safe here, not without you.” Bilbo said quietly, inclining his head towards him. 

This caused Gandalf to pause and look at Bilbo, a cold, hard look. 

“You do know something, don’t you, Bilbo?” He leant down, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Bilbo nodded, “I do, Gandalf. And I will tell you when it is appropriate. I trust your judgement on this, but it is too early to say, to be sure. Please trust me.” He put his hand over Gandalf’s hand. 

Gandalf’s face softened and nodded, “I fear I can guess what it is already. Your soul has been touched by the Valar. But you are right, tell me when it is appropriate. I will stay for the night.” He stood back up and walked away. 

Right behind him was Thorin and Bilbo took a step back in surprise. 

“The wizard is staying now? What did you say to him?” The dwarf asked gruffly. 

“I do not know what you two talked about, or argued about, but it’d be wise to keep Gandalf around, wouldn’t it?” Bilbo tugged at his waist-coast, squirming under the King’s gaze. 

“Would it now?” Thorin took a step closer, his eyes following Bilbo’s lips. 

“I don’t know if you were too busy arguing, but look at that house. Look at what’s inside. I know that dwarves are noble and fearsome warriors.” Bilbo calmed Thorin, watching his face soften. Did his words truly have such an impact? “But Gandalf is a wizard, and they are fearsome warriors too, when they want to be.”

“You trust Gandalf?” Thorin lowered his voice. The air between them seemed thin. To Bilbo, this was an old feeling; a memory from ages past. His heart was beating fast, his hands clammy. To have Thorin so close to him was taking everything he had to pull himself together. 

_ “You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!” _

Bilbo nodded, fighting away the memories that were threatening to take over. “I do. He’s not the enemy. I know he likes to meddle and it’s none of his business. But he usually does what’s right.” 

Thorin seemed satisfied, nodding, and moved away, shouting something towards the dwarves in khuzdul. 

Bilbo turned around, letting out a shaky breath and blinking away the tears that had built up. Sometimes it felt like the memories would open an abyss for him to fall in, an endless pit with only fear to hold him. To swallow him whole. 

_ “Cursed be the wizard that forced you upon this company!” _

He looked over his shoulder, watching Thorin and Dwalin inspect the house. There was still hope for this Thorin. For  _ his _ Thorin. 

#

He volunteered to bring Fili and Kili their dinner, giving Gandalf a knowing look. He took two bowls and disappeared into the woods, finding the two brothers pacing nervously. 

“Bilbo! What are you doing here?” Kili asked nervously, trying to cover with a smile. 

The Hobbit held up two bowls, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?” 

_ We’re supposed to be looking after the ponies. _

“We’re supposed to be looking after the ponies.” Kili stopped pacing, his shoulders dropping in defeat. 

_ “Only we’ve encountered a slight problem.” _

“Only we’ve encountered a slight problem.” Fili took one bowl from Bilbo, frowning. “Two ponies are missing. It’s Daisy and Bungo. We think it has to do with whoever did  _ that _ to the house.” He gestured in the direction of where Bilbo had come from, taking a sip from the bowl. 

“Ah. I see.” He gave the other bowl to Kili and had a look around. “I think you might be right.” Bilbo pointed to the massive footprint, where plants lay dead. 

“We thought our official burglar might help us out.” Kili inhaled the food quickly, speaking in between sips. 

Bilbo nodded grimly. “I thought you might say that.” He straightened his coat and nodded at the two dwarves to follow him. Just as he expected, they found the three trolls soon enough, around a bright fire. The two ponies were tied up behind them. 

“ _ Aklâf _ ! Trolls!” Fili cursed, “And they’ve got Daisy and Bungo!” He nodded towards the ponies. The three hid behind the massive tree in front of the trolls. 

“Right. I have a plan.” Bilbo sighed and turned to the other two, nudging them back into the forest. “You two go back to the company, tell them that trolls have the ponies.  _ Don’t look at me like that _ , no one will judge you. Tell Gandalf that I’m stalling for time, but do hurry up anyway.” 

Fili and Kili exchanged a look, “Are you sure?” Fili asked softly. Bilbo smiled and nodded. The older dwarf pulled out a dagger from his coat and pressed it into the Hobbit’s hands.

“Hurry.”

#

Bilbo snuck around the trolls, walking very quietly towards the ponies. 

One of the trolls started grumbling, “Mutton yesterday, Mutton today, and blimey if it don’t look like mutton again tomorrow.”

“If you hadn’t let those men go, we’d not be having mutton today, would we!” The troll who’d been cooking stopped and yelled at the other troll, waving his massive metal spoon at the other one angrily. 

_ That was new _ .

Bilbo hid behind the ponies, watching the scene unfold. He quietly cut the ponies free, sneaking in the other direction as the ran free. He could only hope that the dwarves would catch them. As the trolls cried for the ponies who ran past them, Bilbo snuck back into the forest, behind the trolls’ back. 

“No! Our dinner! Who let ‘em go?” one of the trolls cried as Bilbo ran behind him. 

He could see a hat peaking out from behind a tree and sighed in relief. “Bofur!” He whispered and knelt down next to the dwarf. 

“Bilbo!” Bofur smiled up at him, “Well-done with Daisy and Bungo!”

Bilbo smiled back at him, “Thank you. What’s the plan?” he asked, watching the trolls turn on each other. Rough words and punches followed, and it felt like the earth itself was shaking. 

“Er, there is, yes. A plan. Gandalf crept up there, he said stall them till the sunrise.” Bofur nodded and turned to where Thorin stalked through the bushes towards them. 

“Well done, Master Burglar.” He smiled warmly, “I will tell you what the plan is. We will confuse the trolls until Gandalf can turn the sun on them.” 

Bilbo prayed that he wasn’t blushing, but the heat in his cheeks could only be one thing. Especially from how Bofur was smirking at him. He was too old to be blushing at a thank you from the dwarven King. 

He nodded and turned to watch as the trolls stopped fighting and started to move towards the woods. As soon as they did, several dwarves jumped out from the bushes, hopping and running around to scatter the trolls. Dori and Dwalin caused the trolls to stumble, their combined strength enough to topple them. Ori, Fili and Kili used their speed to their own advantage, slipping and sliding around the trolls. Bombur, Oin and Gloin were running around one troll in particular, causing it to stumble over. Nori and Bifur aided Dori at one point. It was pure chaos.

A troll managed to pick up Gloin but this didn’t last long as Gloin hacked his hand off with two mighty sweeps, clutching his great axe tightly. Thorin ran past Bilbo and Bofur followed, injuring each troll as they ran passed them. Thorin wielded his sword with grace and power, as he always had. 

Bilbo shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Thorin and watched in horror as a troll picked up Fili, shouting. “Stop moving, or he gets it!” He smirked as each dwarf in the clearing stopped, horrified looks on their faces. Thorin growled something viciously in khuzdul and threw his sword down. 

Bilbo only had a single second to think, throwing the dagger Fili had given him with strength he never knew he had and with a true aim; a moment later there was a dagger sticking out of the troll’s eye and a blood-curdling scream followed. 

Fili took this opportunity, digging his sword into the troll’s hand and fell to the floor. THe other two trolls roared in indignation as Gandalf’s voice boomed through the clearing. 

“The dawn will take you all!”

Gandalf split the cliff in half from where he stood, the sunlight blinding everyone and turning the trolls to stone. There were cheers and the dwarves rushed to each other, grasping each other in tight hugs to ensure no injuries. 

Bilbo walked out of the woods, to where Gandalf was climbing down from the cliffs. The wizard spotted him and put his finger to his nose. “Bilbo Baggins. A good thing I stayed, was it not?”

“All your idea, as well. We would be lost without you, Gandalf.” Bilbo chuckled. His hands shook slightly and he forced them into his pockets. 

Suddenly someone was hugging him fiercely from behind. “Bilbo! Thank you so much for saving my life!” Fili laughed, holding the small Hobbit tightly. 

Bilbo squirmed under the sudden pressure, clearing his throat. “Ah, yes, of course, Fili.I wasn’t going to let the troll get you.”  _ I will not let  _ **_anything_ ** _ get you. _ He nudged the dwarf away from so he could turn around. What he didn’t anticipate was Kili running to hug him as well, knocking the poor Hobbit off his feet and to the ground. 

“Get off!” Bilbo wheezed, the air knocked out of his lungs. “Please-” He coughed and the pressure eased. Thorin pulled his nephews off of the Hobbit and helped him stand up as well. 

“Master Baggins, you saved my nephew and heir. How could I ever repay you?” Thorin smiled brightly, clasping Bilbo’s shoulder tightly. And there Bilbo went again, blushing and slightly shaking. 

“I did what anyone would have done.” Bilbo shook his head, “I was just out of view of the trolls. Please.” 

“A dwarf must always repay his debt to another. I will owe you until you are satisfied.” Thorin released Bilbo and put his arms around his nephews, who were beaming, absolutely delighted. “I will gift you the finest jewels once we reclaim Erebor.” He offered. 

Bilbo scrunched his nose up, straightening his clothes. “Hobits do not care for jewels, Master Dwarf. We care not for gold or silver. And we don’t deal with life-debts. I know a way you can repay me.” He sighed, “Stay alive. Make this quest worth it.” 

Thorin seemed taken aback by Bilbo’s words but nodded thoughtfully, regarding Bilbo carefully. This caused Bilbo to blush even more and left quickly. He could hear Fili and Kili giggle and could only hope it wasn’t at him. He knew it was at him. 

Gandalf sighed, “They must have come down from the Ettenmoors.” Bilbo could hear him talk to Thorin, but Bilbo knew they were going to look for a cave and he had no desire to experience the stink of it again. He sat down on the floor next to Bofur, letting out a deep sigh. 

“Quick thinking, Bilbo. And what an aim, you’ve got!” Bofur chuckled, cleaning his mattock. 

“Oh, you know. Conkers and a bit of luck, I suppose.” Bilbo waved him off. 

“Look for a cave!” Thorin shouted, and the dwarves dutifully fanned out, searching the cliffs for a cave. It did not take long for them to find the cave, stinking with rotting meat and who knows what else. 

Bilbo stayed outside, looking around the forest. Gandalf came out a few minutes later, holding his beloved  _ Sting _ . “This is about your size. The blade is of elvish make, which means it will glow blue in the presence of orcs.” Gandalf smiled, handing the small sword over to Bilbo. He himself had his  _ Glamdring _ already tied to his belt. 

Bilbo nodded, taking the small sword. “A worthy sword, then. Thank you, Gandalf. I see you’ve found a new sword for yourself as well.” He nodded at Glamdring. 

Gandalf patted the sword, smiling. “An incredible sword. I even managed to convince Thorin to take on an elvish sword. He would have been a fool not to take it.” He winked and carried on. 

Bilbo strapped the sword to his belt just as Thorin came up to him, a small smile on his face. “Maybe now we will see those sword-skills you’ve told us about. Swords do indeed fall into your hands when needed, Master Burglar.”

The Hobbit shrugged, sighing softly as he met Thorin’s eyes. “You can call me Bilbo, Master Thorin.”

Thorin’s eyes twinkled with a new emotion that Bilbo couldn’t place but the dwarf-king nodded at him, smiling, “Then you must do me the pleasure in return and call me Thorin.” 

They stared at each other for a moment until Dwalin cleared his throat behind Thorin. As if scolded, Thorin dropped his smile and turned around. Bilbo was unsure whether he could spot a small blush on the dwarf’s cheeks but following Dwalin’s chuckles it was. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update will either be sunday or monday!! (9th or 10th feb 2020)


	4. Yavanna's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What had been their advantage turned quickly into a disadvantage as an Orc slowed his warg down. Gandalf held up his hand, but it was too late. The Orc had picked up the scent of ponies and split away from the other Orcs, climbing onto the large rocky hill behind them, spotting Bilbo and Ori on their ponies. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments!!!! I've been having a lot of fun with this fic, i just love me some good old Bilbo knows too much fanfic and here we are ;)

They had made their way back to the camp, packing everything up and counting the ponies again. All sixteen of them were still there; someone must have tied Daisy and Bungo back up. The Company didn’t waste any more time, getting back onto the ponies and setting off. Bilbo frowned the longer they rode undisturbed. Radagast was supposed to join them shortly. Had they been a day early? A day late? For all his clarity on certain moments, the progression of days from the original journey was fuzzy. 

He stayed silent for the rest of the morning, keeping his focus on their surroundings. Radagast _has_ to be close. He rode alone at the back of the Company, half-heartedly ignoring the looks from the Dwarves and Gandalf. Maybe it was the events from earlier that had gotten to him; maybe it was the lack of sleep. But his heart was beating frantically, and his hands were clammy. If Radagast wasn’t there to inform Gandalf of the darkness that was growing , who would? If Radagast wasn’t there to distract the Orcs and their wargs away from them, would they even have a chance to get to Rivendell? 

Deep in thought, he didn’t notice one of the dwarves slowing down to match his slow speed. “Go any slower and the whole company has to slow down.” Came the rough voice from Dwalin. 

Bilbo jumped slightly, huffing. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to slow down the company.” He looked around into the surrounding woods, biting his lips.

“Is there anything to worry about, Master Burglar?” Dwalin frowned, following Bilbo’s line of sight. 

“No, no, not at all. Nothing to worry about, at all.” Bilbo shook his head, looking away from the forest. Thorin had slowed a considerable bit as well, just in front of Bilbo and Dwalin. 

“Are you expecting something to come through that forest?” Dwalin quickened his pace slightly, Bilbo following. “If you do, you shouldn’t worry. We beat those trolls, we can protect you from whatever this forest has to offer.” He nodded, pride in his voice. 

Bilbo looked at him, deep in thought. Dwalin had been the last member of the company to warm up to Bilbo, and that had lasted a very short time. These words were very surprising from him, and yet the Hobbit couldn’t help but smile brightly. 

“Thank you, Master Dwalin, that is of great comfort.” Bilbo nodded and Dwalin picked up his pace again, riding up to Thorin. As soon as he left though, so did the comfort. It was getting late. _Where was Radagast?_

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” Radagast burst onto the scene, just behind Bilbo, causing the entire Company to turn around. Murmurs went around; who was this mystery guest? Gandalf rode up to his old friend, “It’s Radagast the Brown!”

Ori rode up to the Hobbit, whispering. “Is that another wizard?” 

“I would assume so, yes. He looks to be in a bit of a rush.” Bilbo leant over to the young dwarf. Radagast and Gandalf were in deep conversation. Thorin and Dwalin rode up to the two wizards as well, just as a warg howled near them. Bilbo’s eyes widened in fear, meeting Thorin’s eyes. “That wasn’t a wolf, was it?” He asked meekly. 

Thorin shook his head, “Kili! Get your bow!” He shouted just as a warg crashed through the trees. Kili strung his bow quickly, killing the warg as soon as it came through the forest. Every dwarf took out their weapons, even Ori took out his axe. 

“Warg scouts.” Kili yanked his arrow back out, throwing a disgusted look at the warg. 

“We are not alone in this forest.” Dwalin said, his eyes narrowing at Bilbo. _Great._

“Who did you tell about this quest, beyond your kin?” Gandalf glared at Thorin. Thorin bristled, growling back. 

“No one! I told no one else! What in Durin’s name does this mean?” 

“It means that we are being hunted.” Gandalf tore his eyes away from Thorin, at Bilbo, raising an eyebrow. Bilbo moved his pony away, stroking her mane. They would have to run soon. At least they still had their ponies. 

“We won’t make it far, we don’t know how many wargs there are. Don’t know how many Orcs there’ll be.” Dwalin grunted to Thorin. Radagast perked up, grinning madly. 

“I’ll draw them away from you!”

Gandalf shook his head, “These are Gundabad wargs, Radagast, they will outrun you.”

Radagast smirked at Gandalf, a mad twinkle in his eyes. “These are Rhosgobel rabbits! I’d like to see them try.” 

And with that, Radagast rode away with his rabbits at an incredible speed. Gandalf turned to the rest of the company and motioned for them to follow him. Thorin hesitated but nodded, and they all rode quickly, Bilbo squashed in the middle of the Company. From the opposite direction, they could hear the wargs howling in the distance. 

They made it out onto the plains, slowing down as Gandalf watched Radagast take off behind some large boulders, knocking orcs off of their wargs. They rode carefully, Thorin huffing at Gandalf, “Where are you taking us?!”

What had been their advantage turned quickly into a disadvantage as an Orc slowed his warg down. Gandalf held up his hand, but it was too late. The Orc had picked up the scent of ponies and split away from the other Orcs, climbing onto the large rocky hill behind them, spotting Bilbo and Ori on their ponies. 

Just as last time, Kili took out his bow, aiming two arrows at the Orc and its warg but this time it was too fast for the dwarf, running directly towards Bilbo and Ori. Bilbo pulled out his sword, adrenaline pumping fast through his body; and there it was again. With strength he never possessed, he sliced through the Orc’s head in a second, pulling it through and as the warg turned around to bite at Bilbo, he stuck the blue blade deeply into its skull. He swore his hand had glowed a pale green for a split second. 

With that pale green light, a suspicion in the back of Bilbo’s head about who had sent him back was confirmed. 

Panting, the strength left him quickly and Myrtle buckled underneath him, threatening to toss him off. “Shh, shh, Myrtle-” he calmed her down, stroking her mane. They were both covered in orc and warg blood. He could feel the stares from the Company; he would never be able to explain this. He reached down to the warg’s head tugging the sword out with some difficulty. 

It seemed that Bilbo’s sudden battle skills had frozen everyone. But the noise had called the other wargs, whose howls got closer. 

“Are you all just going to stare at me, or are we running for our lives?!” Bilbo snapped, his hand gripping the blade tightly though there was an odd twinge in his hand. This shook everyone out of their stupor and he knew that from Gandalf’s stare that he would be asked about this. Until then, though, they would have to stay alive. 

“Go!” Thorin barked at the others, astounded at the might of the small Hobbit and they all started riding quickly away from the oncoming wargs. “Stay together! They’re right behind us!” 

Kili managed to turn around in his saddle; shooting at the wargs that were gaining on them. He managed to kill two wargs with two quick shots, and their bodies fell, tripping three other wargs and causing them to roll roughly. 

“This way!” Gandalf cried out, his horse much faster than the others and their ponies. He spotted something, for he took off much quicker than any could keep up with. Dwalin grunted something in khuzdul, waving his great battle-axe at the surrounding wargs. The ponies, frightened, were getting more and more difficult to control. 

Bilbo yanked at the reigns, trying to hold on as Myrtle was panicking. The Orcs surrounded them slowly, some crawling from a distance, some circling around them. One was yipping at Ori who was about to throw his axe into its face when Dori knocked it aside with his own pony, slicing it apart. “Stay away from my brother!” He growled. 

“Where’s Gandalf?!” Dwalin shouted, looking frantically for the wizard. “He’s abandoned us!”

Just then, Gandalf reappeared from behind a massive boulder, “This way!” He waved at them with his staff. “Quickly!”

Slowly but surely, the Company thinned out and followed Gandalf in pairs of two. Bombur cried out when he saw what Gandalf had found. “It’s too steep for the ponies!”

Gandalf was about to shout something when a horn rang. An elven call. Dwalin, splattered in orc blood from where he was pulling his axe out of a dead corpse shouted something again; in khuzdul. 

The dwarves moved their ponies, forming a quick circle as the Elves slowly slaughtered the surrounding Orcs. Bilbo would call it a bloodbath, but the Elves were much too graceful and elegant for it to be so brutal. It was clean, quick. 

Bilbo barely had time to take in any Orcs left for they were all killed swiftly. Once every Orc was killed, the Elves focused on the remaining travellers; circling them. Bilbo couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped him, he was overjoyed to see Elrond again. He was one of the last faces he had seen before he died, and it was nice to see him again. 

“Huddle together!” Thorin called out, as if the Elves were any threat at all. Gandalf shook his head, smiling softly at Elrond as the Elves settled slowly, staring at the dwarves with unimpressed faces. Gandalf rode out to meet Elrond, exchanging a few smiles. 

Bilbo remained outside the huddle of dwarves and their ponies, riding around the Elves towards Gandalf and Elrond. Bilbo was about to greet his old friend in sindarin but he had to stop himself quickly, his smile fading from his face. It wouldn’t do good to arouse more suspicion. And yet, there was something about the way Elrond’s eyes searched him. Could he tell as well?

“And who is this?” Elrond asked curiously, leaning forward towards Bilbo. He could hear the dwarves dispersing, someone riding up next to him. 

“Bilbo Baggins, my lord.” Bilbo bowed respectfully, stealing a look to see who had ridden up next to him. Thorin stared at him, almost incredulous. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to know that Elrond is a lord, but he could argue he was just being polite. 

“What is a Hobbit doing so far out of the Shire? It’s been ages since Hobbits have left the Shire to go across the mountains.” Elrond wondered, frowning and yet Bilbo was sure to catch some amusement in his expression as well. 

Bilbo shrugged, chuckling. “I’m travelling with my friends, of course.” He looked at Thorin. Was he allowed to use that word yet? Thorin had been so much more kind to him, too early in the journey. Thorin looked surprised but his stare softened into something much warmer. Elrond looked between the two and caught Gandalf’s eyes, a small smirk on his lips. 

“Indeed. Thor, son of Thrain. You have your grandfather’s bearing. I knew Thror, when he ruled under the mountain.” Elrond bowed his head; the slightest tilt. 

Thorin looked at Bilbo, who was hoping that Thorin would have more tact this time around and sighed; “Then I thank Mahal that Thror had your acquaintance. My thanks to you for slaying these vile creatures.” Thorin bowed his head as well, taking Elrond and Gandalf by surprise. 

“Of course, we slay any enemy that comes close to our borders. Come, I offer you some rest in Rivendell. And some food.” Elrond nodded at his second in command and started riding, sparing a glance at Gandalf who nodded as well. 

The other Elves followed Elrond quickly while the other dwarves gathered around Thorin, Gandalf and Bilbo. “Do we follow?” Dwalin asked Thorin, packing his axe away. 

Thorin huffed, looking at Gandalf. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? To end up with the Elves?”

“They have answers that we need. And a place to rest without worry of an attack.” Gandalf said with a strong voice; causing murmurs around the dwarves. Bilbo remembered the hostility and worry the dwarves had felt;Elrond may be a half-elf but an elf he was. 

Thorin gave Gandalf a long look with narrowed eyes, “So it seems. You think the Elves will give their blessing to our quest?!” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“No, I do not. But for now we need Lord Elrond to read that map. What happens after, happens.” Gandalf shrugged, clutching his staff. 

Thorin glanced at Bilbo. The Hobbit smiled softly, stroking Myrtle’s mane. The dwarf nodded, “I do not like this. I do not trust Elves. But you are right, we need answers. We follow.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned his pony around and started riding, following the Elves at a great distance. The Company followed obediently, leaving Gandalf and Bilbo at the back. 

“You showed great skill and power there, Bilbo. Where did you learn such a thing?”

Bilbo didn’t know how to answer that question; he barely knew how he could have done such a thing himself! He offered a weak shrug and a weaker smile. 

Gandalf was not satisfied. 

#

Rivendell had always been a thing of beauty; late in Bilbo’s life the Elves had started to leave their home but the beauty remained. Now, with life bursting from every leaf and drop of water, it seemed like paradise. After dealing with trolls and orcs, Bilbo was beside himself to be back in the place he had counted as home. 

The dwarves rode into Rivendell suspicious and hostile. But Bilbo had no time to spare for any of that, he made no secret of his feelings. He laughed, feeling the warm breeze rush through his hair and he could tell Myrtle was happier as well. He knew the others gave him odd looks, but he was used to them. 

Lindir came out to meet them, holding out his hands for Gandalf. “Mithrandir!” He gave him ea warm smile, which faded as soon as he saw the dwarves. “My Lord Elrond has given me instructions to put the ponies in the stall and show our guests to their rooms. He awaits you in his library.” He bowed his head sligthly as Gandalf nodded, getting off his horse and giving the reigns to Lindir. 

“

Thank you very much. Behave!” He turned to the other dwarves, a twinkle in his eyes and swept away into the Halls. Bilbo bit his lip, jealousy bubbling in his heart. He would have loved to run after Gandalf to meet Elrond in his library, his favourite place in Rivendell. But he stayed behind, leading Myrtle behind the other ponies into the stall. 

The dwarves grumbled to each other in khuzdul but Bilbo knew not what they said. He let Thorin and Balin talk with Lindir, following the Company as they walked into the main hall. He lagged behind even, taking in all of its beauty and warmth. It felt like he could breathe again, the heavy burden pushed into the back of his mind. 

“Master Hobbit, if you don’t mind-” Lindir called out to Bilbo, motioning him to follow the dwarves into a big room with several beds and a small fountain, water rushing from the ceilings on down. 

“Thank you, Master Elf.” Bilbo bowed his head at the Elf. He knew Lindir would appreciate his manners. And he was correct, Lindir’s lips moved the slightest bit and with a swoop of his robes, he left the dwarves to their own devices. 

Bilbo walked into the room, letting his pack slip onto one of the beds in the corner. 

“You seem rather happy to be in the belly of the beast.” Gloin huffed, sitting on the bed next to him, his axe still strapped to his back. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes, “Yes, I am rather happy to be somewhere where the air is warm and there’s no trolls or orcs.” He put his hands on his hips, looking around the room. Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dwalin and Balin seem to have been put in another room. Dori, Nori, Ori, Gloin, Oin, Bifur, Bombur and Bofur were in this room, most inspecting the gentle stream of water descending from the open ceiling. 

“Aye there may not be any trolls or any orcs, but there is something far worse.” Gloin shook his head, pipe in hand. “Elves.” He said, his voice dripping with disgust. 

Bilbo sighed, shaking his head. “Master Dwarf, I find the Elves to be much better company than trolls or orcs. I’m going to have a look around.” Bilbo unbuckled Sting and set it next to his pack. To walk around with a weapon as a guest would just be rude, he thought to himself, glaring at the axe on Gloin’s back. 

“You best take that with you then. The tall fella told us we’ll be _summoned_ when dinner is ready to be served.” Gloin laughed, motioning a curtsy. “Although I imagine you don’t need a sword after what I’ve seen you do to Orcs!” He threw his head back, “You had us all surprised, lad, look at the size of ye!”

Bilbo blushed furiously, straightening his coat and leaving without another word. The halls were empty, but never cold. There was light everywhere, and Bilbo followed the path he knew so well. He didn’t even need to look; but he did and he took in the beauty once more. In his old age, his eyesight had betrayed him and his legs had cramped so badly he hadn’t been able to walk anywhere on his own. If Frodo could look at him now!

He followed the descending staircase, the lovely little path into a garden of stone and marble sculptures, past the different statues into a grand garden filled with tall, green trees and beautiful flowers; where the stream of water glistened in the sun. He followed the small stream, listening to the trees around him. He had always felt at his best when surrounded by Yavanna’s gifts to Hobbits. Now, though, it felt like they were calling to him directly. It was as if the very trees themselves were reaching for his soul. 

**“Bilbo.”** The voice called as he stopped at a tiny clearing filed with a patch of tulips, both yellow and red. The last time he had been here, he had built a small shrine to his maker, a thanks for guiding Frodo through the evil. Frodo had laughed at him, unsure of Yavanna’s role in his life. But Bilbo had faith, and this faith in her green gifts had always guided him well. 

“It’s been tough, my lady.” He sighed, kneeling in the dirt. He knew now who it was who had sent him back; unmistakeable. “But easier with your guidance. I thank you for your gift of strength.” He smiled softly into the air. “It _was_ you, who gave me the strength to kill that orc, wasn’t it?” 

**“I am not that cruel to send my champion back without protection. You will do well to remember that. You will surprise us all.”** There was a wind rushing around him, swaying the trees. A soft light from above shone brightly, the warmth of it filling his heart. 

“It is not hopeless, then? I-I thought at first I would be on my own against the world, to prove myself.” Bilbo was unsure of himself, but he opened his arms anyway. 

**“I cannot tell you much more. But if you have faith in yourself, and who you are, good will follow. Stay strong, my hobbit. I will not let this be in vain.”** the voice spoke softer now, directly into his ear. He could feel the love she held for her creations; for the trees and the flowers; for every growing thing of Arda and for every Hobbit that lived. 

He smiled softly, closing his eyes, as he let himself be overwhelmed by his emotions and tears slipped down his cheeks. This was his duty, then. To carry on in her name. 

“What are you doing here?” A young voice shouted and with that, the air broke around him the warmth of Yavanna left him. He wiped the teras off his face and quickly stood up. 

“Who is there? Show yourself!” He called back, and through the trees came a young boy, no more than ten years old. Bilbo took a step back, taking in his face. It must be. 

“My name is Estel. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Aragorn frowned at him, small arms crossed over his chest. 

Bilbo bowed in front of the young child. He had never known Aragorn personally, but he certainly heard enough stories from Frodo to recognize who this was. 

“I am Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit of the Shire. I was just taking a moment to enjoy the beauty here. Rivendell is a wondrous home to have, don’t you think?” Bilbo shook the dirt off of his clothes, smiling softly. 

“It’s alright. It can get a bit boring here, though. Ell- my friends are on a trip, right now, so it’s very boring right now. I was just-” The young boy sighed, “exploring before my lesson starts.” 

Bilbo nodded, “Mhm, I agree, it can get a bit boring without friends. If you’d like, I can be your friend.” He offered, barely taller than the child himself, but nonetheless he he straightened himself. 

Aragorn smiled brightly, “Yes! I always wanted to befriend a Hobbit! Tell me, tell me, are your feet really built for no shoes?” He looked curiously at Bilbo’s feet, leaning forward. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes but smiled, looking down at his feet. “That’s true enough, we don’t need shoes. We don’t even like shoes, to be honest. Where I come from, it’s mostly green fields and warm paths.” And so, the two walked throughout the garden of trees, both exploring (mostly for Aragorn’s sake) and talking. 

#

Bilbo and Aragorn spent the better part of the afternoon attached at the hip. Aragorn reminded him of Frodo, when Frodo had been young. Before his parents’ death. Frodo had been so curious about every little thing; Aragorn was the same. 

Eventually though, an Elf arrived to take Aragorn to his lesson, surprised to see him with Bilbo. Aragorn’s excitement though took over the Elf’s surprise and the Elf gave Bilbo a small smile, before taking the child to his lesson. He could tell that it was difficult for Aragorn. It had been difficult for Frodo as well, but at least Frodo had been with fellow hobbits and kin. Aragorn seemed to be the only human child around. 

He wandered back to his room, starving. He knew that Dwarves and Elves only ate two or three meals a day, but Hobbits ate more than that. He briefly entertained the thought of _accidentally_ finding the kitchens but he shook his head. He had stirred up enough suspciion for one day. He would just have to- _there was a scone on his bed._

The other dwarves were scattered in the room,nowhere near his bed. Ori noticed him first, “Bilbo! We were worried about you! Where did you go?” He rushed over to the hobbit, Dori, Bombur and Bofur following. 

“I gave Gloin a piece of my mind about letting you just _wander_ about when there’s Elves around-” Dori huffed, glaring over his shoulder at Gloin who was glaring back at him. 

  
“-and _I_ told Dori that our Master Burglar would be just fine, and look! He is, someone send word to Thorin!” Bofur snickered, winking at Bilbo, who _ignored_ the wink and picked up the scone on his bed.

“That’s awfully kind of you, Bofur. Did any of you see who put this scone here? It smells freshly baked.” Bilbo sniffed it, his stomach grumbling. The scone was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, or so his starving stomach told his eyes. 

Before he could take a bite out of it though, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist roughly. “I would’na not that if I were you. Could be poisoned.” Dwalin had appeared out of thin air behind him, forcing Bilbo to put the scone down. 

The _nerve._

The **audacity.**

Bilbo may not have had the strength of a dwarf but he ripped his wrist free of the hold and bit back at Dwalin, “I will _thank_ you very much to never lay a hand on me again, Master Dwalin. In fact, I will _thank_ you even more if you stop your stupid obsession on being hostile to the Elves who gave us shelter- and now food. Which, I, being a Hobbit who is accustomed to eating seven times a day, will _need_ , so if you could just mind your own bloody business-” He was shouting at this point, pointing his finger at Dwalin’s chest who had not expected this reaction. “I will thank you, very much indeed.” He was panting at this point; every dwarf staring at Bilbo in shock. 

“Now.” He huffed, picking up the scone again and biting into it. He closed his eyes, letting each bite savour in his mouth. The Elves were almost on par with Hobbits when it came to baked goods. 

He finished his scone quickly, his starving stomach filling up slightly. He noticed it was still silent. 

Bilbo looked at Dwalin who looked as if he was about to kill Bilbo and noticed Thorin, who stood behind Dwalin and had his hand on his friends’ shoulder. The Hobbit found no sympathy for Dwalin, raising his eyebrows at the dwarf. Protect him from beasts on the forest was very well, but keep him from food?

“Never keep a Hobbit starving.” He said simply, shrugging. “You will find no ill intent here, Dwarves. ‘Tis a beautiful place, with hidden treasures.” 

Thorin nudged Dwalin away, who left, muttering to himself. “You left.” The King said, a soft tone though Bilbo knew Thorin was holding himself back. 

“I didn’t leave, I merely went exploring.” Bilbo shrugged. “We are not prisoners here, we don’t have to stay in these rooms.” 

Thorin hesitated then let out a laugh. “Saving my nephew was already impressive. Killing an orc _and_ a warg the way you did was even more impressive. But shouting at Dwalin? I think you may be the bravest Hobbit I have ever met.” Which shouldn't have meant much, considering Bilbo was the first Hobbit Thorin had ever met, and yet-

The rush of anger and defensiveness left him, hearing the warm sound of Thorin’s laughter. He really was gone, wasn’t he? His heart melting into a soft puddle at Thorin’s smile?

“I-I told you I have skills you would require on this journey.” Bilbo bit his lip, smiling back at the dwarf. 

“Indeed.” Thorin stepped closer, and Bilbo’s heart stopped. “But for the sake of a few poor dwarves’ sanity, don’t explore without any of us. It wouldn’t do us good to lose our burglar.” 

Bilbo severely hoped that the other dwarves at least _pretended_ to be busy, but he could feel them peaking glances at the pair of them, his face going even redder than he thought possible. 

“I suppose not-” Bilbo said, the air between them thin. 

“Dinner is served.” An Elf appeared in the doorway, interrupting Bilbo. Thorin jumped back, as if he had been so involved with Bilbo that he didn’t hear the elf approach. His hand gripped Bilbo’s shoulder, which Thorin let go of after a moment. He cleared his throat and turned away, nodding at the other dwarves to follow the elf. 

Bilbo stood still for a second, watching Thorin leave. His heart was going beserk. He would have to learn how to control himself; he couldn’t lose his mind every time Thorin was close to him. He wasn’t a tween anymore, after all. _No, I’m just a lovesick old fool._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy it! Next chapter will be up either tuesday or wednesday (11th or 12th of february!)


	5. Rivendellian Adventures: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t have any hobbit magic!” Bilbo shouted exasperatedly, “That doesn’t exist!” He turned around to the other dwarves, who were betting on who would win. “What is happening?” he cried out, waving his arms at the other dwarves. He turned to Thorin and Balin who were watching the scene unfold with raised eyebrows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAh so here it is!!!! i hope you enjoy some shenanigans!!!!

Dinner went about as well as Bilbo could have hoped for. The Elves had served mostly fruit and vegetables and the Dwarves were all still armed to the bone. The Elves were playing traditional music, slow-paced and beautifully intricate, and the Dwarves were complaining loudly. Through it all, Thorin and Gandalf sat next to Elrond, in deep conversation. Bilbo thought he had caught Elrond staring at him, but every time he turned his head, the half-Elf was facing Gandalf. 

Dwalin was sat opposite him, keeping a silent watch over Bilbo. Was it the fact that he knew something was coming before Radagast warned them, or was it Bilbo’s shouting attack that caused this distrust? It must be the former; he knew that the latter would force Dwalin to re-evaluate Hobbits. Nevertheless, Bilbo thought to himself, eating as many things as he could, he must tread carefully. 

Dori nudged Ori, “Just try some. It’s not so bad.” He smiled, forcing himself to have some as well. Bilbo didn't have the heart to tell him that you don’t eat lettuce plainly but he smiled to himself when Ori pouted, 

“I don’t like green food.”

Nori, on the other hand, didn’t bother with the food. He turned around to the elven-maid who was playing the flute and huffed, “Play somethin’ more cheery, would ye? I feel like I’m at a funeral!” 

Oin looked up, his ear trumpet stuffed with napkins. “Did somebody die?”

Kili on the other hand was the only dwarf who was silent, watching their hosts circle the table, playing their instruments solemnly. Bilbo caught his eye, raising an eyebrow as a question. The young dwarf blushed softly, shaking his head. Dwalin huffed, sitting next to the prince and nudged him roughly with his shoulder, “Don’t go an’ catch feelings for one of ‘em elves. You’ll not be able to tell the difference between a maid and a lad!” Dwalin threw his head back, laughing at his own joke. 

“That’s not prohibited in your culture, is it, Master Dwalin?” Bilbo frowned, eyes flittering quickly towards Thorin. 

Dwalin caught his eyes and frowned, hesitating. He definitely saw Bilbo’s glance towards his king.

“Dwarves do not deny their One. Life brings us little pleasure and even less happiness. When a dwarf finds their One, it is a joyous thing, never to be denied.” He squared his shoulders, staring at Bilbo with cold eyes. “Dwarrow-dams are incredibly rare.” 

Bilbo was taken aback by the sudden coldness of the dwarf but he should have guessed Dwalin wouldn’t trust him. Last time, no one had trusted him, least of all Thorin. And yet- he could feel the other’s eyes on him. 

He pretended this didn’t bother him. It shouldn’t- he wasn’t here for his love life. He was here to prevent Thorin’s death. He was here for Frodo. 

Fili grinned at Bilbo from the other side of Dwalin, directly at their Burglar. “What about you, Bilbo? What do Hobbits think of this type of love?” Kili perked up at that, a small smirk on his lips as well, whereas Dwalin looked like he was ready to pounce on the crown prince in anger. 

Bilbo knew he had the attention of the dwarves- and maybe a couple of the elves as well. He couldn’t help the blush, the subject of such a love bringing up dreaded memories. He knew Fili had meant to poke fun- it was what young dwarves did. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Thorin again. 

“Hobbits-” He tried to speak but his voice suddenly felt stuck in his throat. He couldn’t stop thinking about Thorin, dead, in his arms. He had screamed himself hoarse. Gandalf had to tear him off of the King’s body, so they could carry him down to lay next to Fili and Kili. There hadn’t been a worse day in his life; he thought he had known heartbreak from foolish young love. But a broken heart from grief? It had been the worst pain in his life. 

“Young lads usually have such romances, but when Hobbits grow up, we are expected to settle down with a lass. Start a family.” He finally said, his voice painfully quiet. 

“But you didn’t have a lass when we came ‘round yours. Are you still young enough then for such a romance or do you have to settle soon?” Kili frowned, confused and curious. 

He finally tore his eyes away from his plate, his face red. Maybe it was from embarrassment, maybe it was because he was trying his hardest not to burst out into tears. All of his brave heroism from earlier left him, drained, leaving him just a sad, small Hobbit. He stood up abruptly, clearing his throat. “I thank you, for such a lovely dinner, Lord Elrond. I must retire now back to our guest-rooms.” He tried to remain calm, but he was sure he was stumbling over his words. He left quickly before anyone else could say anything. 

The music had long stopped. 

Kili and Fili exchanged a look after the Hobbit had escaped the dining hall. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Kili finally said, pouting. Dwalin grunted, smacking the lad’s head. 

“Leave the Halfling alone.”

#

The rest of dinner was a quiet affair. No complaints, no songs. The dwarves retired to both of their rooms, with no sign of Bilbo. Balin sighed, lighting up his pipe as Thorin approached him. “It seems our Burglar does not want to be disturbed.”

Thorin sat down next to his old friend and mentor. “Yes, it seems so. The boys shouldn’t have upset him so.” He frowned, eyes watching the door. 

“Maybe. But, and forgive my candor, You shouldn’t lose sight of the task at hand.” Balin said carefully, eyeing Thorin up and down. 

“What are you implying?” Thorin snapped, glaring at Balin. 

“You know exactly what I’m implying, laddie.” Balin didn’t sway, meeting his eyes. “Gandalf wants us to give Elrond our map. One of the last great secrets of Erebor. We can’t waste the precious little time that we have.” 

“I am not. The Hobbit-”

“I knew it.”

“He feels familiar!” Thorin confessed in a shout. Dwalin looked up, with narrowed eyes and walked closer from where he had been unpacking his bag. 

“What do ye mean, familiar?” 

“I am not sure.” Thorin sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “It feels like I know him. Or, I  _ knew  _ him. As if I could trust him.” His voice was small. 

Dwalin and Balin had never seen this side of Thorin. Not after his brother died, not after his father went missing. The Thorin they knew bore everything with a stiff upper lip, never accepting any help. They made eye contact, worried glances, and sat closer to him. 

“Don’t ye worry. We’ll figure that Burglar out before he can harm ye.” Dwalin clapped Thorin’s shoulder. Thorin huffed, shaking his head. 

“That’s not it at all, Dwalin.”

“How do ye know? It might be some of that Hobbit magic.” Dwalin snorted. “When his hand went all shiny and green. Remember?” 

Thorin sighed again, standing up and walking over to his bed, laying down on it. It was the truth, there were many odd things about the Hobbit that Thorin could not understand. The lack of beard, the giant feet with no shoes, the appetite, his longing stares. But the oddest thing yet may be Thorin’s feelings for Bilbo Baggins. 

#

Bilbo found himself at the bottom of a massive fountain, built into the bedrock. For once, his mind was clear. No memories pushing and scraping to resurface, no hidden emotion that he was trying to suppress, no ethereal warmth and no icy blue eyes. 

He sat down next to the fountain, letting his head rest on the ledge. 

“You seem to know your way around.” A familiar, soothing voice came from behind Bilbo, but the Hobbit made no move to see who it was. 

“I came here by accident, my friend.” Bilbo said, closing his eyes. He wasn’t sure which place he meant; the fountain or his new life. 

Gandalf sat down on the ledge next to Bilbo’s head and leant forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Are you alright, Bilbo? You left dinner in quite a rush.”

Bilbo looked up at the wizard, his vision blurry as tears filled up his eyes. “Oh, Gandalf, it’s all too much. I-” He sat up, searching for the words to explain. Giving up, he shook his head, wiping away his tears. “I’m just tired. You know how funny Hobbits get when they don’t sleep right. Today has been the longest day of my life.”

Gandalf nodded in sympathy, placing his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder as a comforting gesture. “I know, I know. But the day is not over yet.”

Bilbo shook his head, “No, it’s not.”

“I see the way you look at him, you know.” Gandalf spoke after a few minutes of silence, his voice so much louder now. 

Bilbo looked away stubbornly, frowning. His old heart was too tired for this. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“Oh, do you mean Thorin? Yes, I suppose you would see. He is very stubborn, is he not?” Bilbo grumbled, his attempt to sound neutral failing miserably. 

“No, he isn’t. He’s been very amiable on this journey. Very polite to Lord Elrond.” Gandalf said and though Bilbo could not see his face, he knew the old wizard was smiling. 

“Mhm. That may be, but he’s a dwarf. Dwarves are always stubborn.” Bilbo crossed his arms, still stubborn. 

“Usually. I find you have a calming presence on these dwarves, Bilbo. Especially on our dear leader. You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?” Gandalf said, his voice much quieter now.  _ Well. _

Bilbo had no answer for Gandalf. He truly didn’t know why Thorin had been so much more trusting and kinder than he had originally been. 

“Excuse me, Gandalf, but I did save his nephew. And I killed that orc. I think I’ve proven myself, don’t  _ you _ think?” Bilbo huffed, standing up and patting the dirt off of his trousers. That must be it. There could not be any other reason, could there? 

Gandalf, in turn, stood up as well, still smiling. “Indeed you have. Killing an orc on a warg is no small feat for a Hobbit. I couldn’t help but notice something particular, my dear friend.” he nudged Bilbo’s hand with his staff. 

Bilbo tucked his hand away, blushing slightly. 

“There’s something very odd going on here, Bilbo Baggins.” Gandalf’s smile dropped from his face, as the wizard frowned at the small Hobbit. 

“And you want to know what’s going on?”

“No. I don’t want to know, I already do.” Gandalf sat back down, now eye-level to the Hobbit. “I have more powers than this staff shows, you know.” 

Bilbo sighed, starting to pace around. “Gandalf, I didn’t want to keep this from you. I just- I just didn’t want to talk about it.” He turned his back to Gandalf, looking up at the starry night. “This is not the first time I’ve been in Rivendell.” He finally confessed. 

Gandalf set his staff down, and took his hat off but said nothing. 

“And I’m really not the 50 year old Hobbit that you remember.” Bilbo sighed, waiting for a sign from Yavanna to stop him. “I died, Gandalf. I died here, in about seventy years, surrounded by my kin and Lord Elrond. You said you would be there, to see me one last time, but you never made it. I think you were busy meddling somewhere, as you always do. But when I-” He sighed, turning around to see both Lord Elrond and Gandalf standing in front of him. 

“L-Lord Elrond!” Bilbo took a step back, surprised. 

Elrond however just smiled at him, “I had my suspicions, Master Baggins. You carry a difficult weight, and when I saw you, I was at first confused, but this explains it.”

“E-explains what?” Bilbo frowned up at the two.

“Why you have the appearance of a young hobbit, but your soul is so much heavier,  _ tâdcuil _ .” Elrond bowed his head slowly. Bilbo shook his head,  _ would this day never end?! _

“There’s so much I want to say, and yet I know no words sufficient enough.” Bilbo shrugged, fumbling nervously with the bottom of his coat. 

Elrond held his hand up, “And it’s better not to. You have been sent back for a reason, a reason which will reveal itself to us when the time comes.”

“I-I know why I have been sent back. And I know who it was who sent me back.” Bilbo revealed, a small smile on his face. “I have so much work to do, and I fear that if I were to tell you what kind of work it is, it would disrupt too much of the future. So far I have been able to navigate this journey well, everything has been going to plan. But I cannot speak for this future.”

Gandalf nodded, “And so you shouldn’t. But in terms of Thorin- you might want to be a bit more subtle, my old friend.” He winked at the Hobbit, who blushed furiously. 

_ Really, Gandalf! In front of Lord Elrond! _ Bilbo thought grumpily, and dared to peak at Elrond’s face. To anyone else, the half-elf would look neutral, bored even. But Bilbo saw the twinkle of amusement in his eyes the Elves love to hide. 

“Well, I must really retire to my room now. I am  _ very _ tired.” He huffed, tugging his waist-coat in place. “Good day.” He nodded and turned around to walk away. He wasn’t sent back for the amusement of Gandalf nor Lord Elrond. His feelings were nobody’s business except for his own. 

Surprisingly, as he had not paid attention on his way there, he did find his way back quite quickly. The dwarves were fast asleep, snoring loudly. He frowned, worried. There were clothes all over the place. They had not spent more than a night in Rivendell that last time; Lord Elrond had read the runes the evening of the same day they had arrived. Were they too early? He climbed into his own bed, trying his best to relax. 

Sleep found him quickly, and so did the nightmares. 

#

The first sign that the dwarves were up to something was the newfound distance between him and everyone else. Fili and Kili were the only ones who spoke to Bilbo, and even then it was just to apologise for yesterday. Bilbo reassured them with a chuckle, “It’s fine.”

  
And that had been that, the two princes leaving him and sitting in between Thorin and Dwalin. Of which the former was pointedly in a very deep conversation with Balin and the latte who was just outright glaring at Bilbo. 

Bilbo knew what this meant. This meant that the other dwarves would follow suit; whether it was a conscious choice or not. And he was right; the second sign was that not even Ori would talk to him. It felt like Bilbo had woken up on the wrong journey. 

Gandalf and Lord Elrond were absent from breakfast, presumably off discussing important business. It was frustrating, to say the least. The Hobbit thought things were going well, this time. Thorin had been nice to him a bit earlier than anticipated, but it had been a positive change. 

This, though, was worrying. Did they overhear his conversation with Gandalf and Lord Elrond? Did they decide that he had been too suspicious; that no Hobbit could be that good a fighter without the help of nefarious magic? (It was true, but it wasn’t  _ nefarious  _ and besides the point.)

The first person to speak to him was Dwalin, which Bilbo had been hoping would ignore him. Out of all the dwarves to start a conversation, Dwalin wasn’t the one he wanted to talk to.

“You may have some skill with yer little letter-opener,” He started off, his voice rough and rude, “but we need to evaluate your hand-to-hand. Follow me.” He nodded and started walking without waiting for a response. 

Bilbo stared after him then turned to the other dwarves for any help, but they all just stared at him, just as shocked as he was. 

“Are ye coming, or not?!” Dwalin barked from afar and Bilbo stood up dutifully, following the older dwarf. 

“I- this is just an evaluation, right? We’re not actually going to fight.” Bilbo followed Dwalin, taking off his coat slowly. He wasn’t sure how Dwalin knew his way around and from the two times they got lost, Bilbo realized he didn’t. But he wouldn’t say anything, he didn’t want to be accused of being too friendly with the Elves, even if that was true. 

He could only take so much distrust after having held their trust for a short but sweet while. It also took him a second to realize that the entire Company was following them. He wasn’t sure what this was, but he knew it was unlikely that Dwalin just woke up one day and decided to test Bilbo’s fighting skills. Though, maybe he had, so Bilbo would have no surprises left for the dwarves. On the last journey, Dwalin had never offered to test his fighting skills. Eventually they found a small court-yard that wasn’t covered in stone, but dirt and grass. 

Dwalin took off his outer layer of fur and cracked his knuckles. “You may have everyone fooled with yer hobbit magic, but not me.” He huffed, too quiet for anyone else to hear and Bilbo was so caught off-guard that he almost missed what he said. 

“What-” He said and Dwalin cried out, charging directly at him. Bilbo let out an embarrassing squeak, sliding to the side just in time for Dwalin to miss him. 

“Don’t break the burglar!” One of the dwarves shouted but Bilbo couldn’t tell which one, ducking Dwalin again. 

“C’me here!” Dwalin growled, hands pouncing on Bilbo’s back. 

“I don’t-  _ hobbit magic- _ ” Bilbo huffed, the impact of Dwalin’s fists knocking him down. He turned around, Dwalin jumping on top of him but he slid out between Dwalin’s legs, panting. 

Dwalin turned around quickly, his fist flying towards Bilbo’s face but he ducked and tackled the dwarf around his waist, using his momentum to knock him down. Dwalin let out a surprised groan, grabbing Bilbo by his shoulders and throwing him off. 

“This- this isn’t an evaluation, is it?” Bilbo panted, fists held up in front of him after he clambered to stand up. 

Dwalin smirked; a fearsome sight. “No, it’s not.” He whispered, and swivelled, his fist aiming to knock into Bilbo’s head but Bilbo brought his arms up, protecting his head from the vicious dwarf. 

The strength he had relied on to kill the troll returned, bracing quite well against Dwalin’s strength. This seemed to disappoint the dwarf though.

“Use your hobbit magic-” Dwalin grunted, shoving Bilbo back and pulling back to punch his stomach. 

_ Oh.  _ Dwalin wanted Bilbo to use Yavanna’s gift; to test the green glow. Bilbo shook his head, confused. Even if he had magic, he had used it to help the dwarves. Why was Dwalin so angry?

Bilbo held his hands up, catching Dwalin’s flying fist with his left hand. Before he realized, his foot connected with the dwarf’s chest, throwing the large dwarf back. 

“I don’t have any hobbit magic!” Bilbo shouted exasperatedly, “That doesn’t exist!” He turned around to the other dwarves, who were betting on who would win. “What is happening?” he cried out, waving his arms at the other dwarves. He turned to Thorin and Balin who were watching the scene unfold with raised eyebrows. 

It was a bad idea to lose focus as Dwalin tackled the smaller Hobbit easily, pinning him to the floor. 

“Enough!” Thorin shouted, walking over and grabbing Dwalin with some difficulty, tearing him off Bilbo. “This is over.” 

Bilbo stayed on the floor, his body aching all over, panting. Dwalin growled something at Thorin, the secret language prevented Bilbo from knowing what it was, but he could guess. Dwalin was wrong, there was no such thing as Hobbit Magic. It just so  _ happened _ that this Hobbit had some magic.

He got up slowly, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dwalin, if I had Hobbit Magic, I would have used it-to not get bloody bruised all over!” He huffed angrily, dusting himself off carefully. “Is that what everyone thinks happened? That I have Hobbit Magic?!” He turned around to the others.

“Your hand did glow, Master Bilbo.” Ori pointed out from behind Dori, shy as ever. 

Bilbo frowned, panicking, “That was a trick of the light! The sword glows blue, I don’t know what to tell you. What, you don’t think a Hobbit can kill an Orc without having to rely on their supposed  _ magic?! _ ” He shouted angrily. He was being a hypocrite, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“We’re just helpless hobbits, aren’t we, that we can’t just be good swordsmen, no-no- we have to be  _ magic! _ ” He continued, glaring at each dwarf. “And that warrants distance, does it? It justifies treating me like an outsider again?”

“Master Bilbo, we didn’t mean to-” Ori dared to look at Thorin, his voice drifting away. 

Thorin frowned, “Hobbits do not possess magic, then?”

“No, Hobbits as a people do not have  _ magic _ .” True enough. “And even if we  _ did _ have magic-” He walked closer to Thorin, ignoring Dwalin’s growls, “it would be to grow food better. It wouldn’t be an aggressive magic to use in battle.” All the energy he felt coursing through his veins left him, leaving him drained. “You don’t understand Hobbits. That’s fine.” 

_ It wasn’t. _

Thorin nodded and bowed his head, “I apologize for my kin, Master Burglar.” and left, dragging Dwalin with him. 

Bilbo sighed, pouting. So they were back to Master Burglar. 

Ori walked up to him, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry, Bilbo, Dwalin came to our room last night and when he didn’t see you, he said you were conspiring with the Elves and something about Hobbit magic!”

Bilbo winced, his back aching from Dwalin’s punches. He turned around and hugged the young dwarf back, “You shouldn’t just do what Dwalin says, y’know?” he whispered. 

Ori nodded, pulling back, “Probably.” He chuckled softly and the other dwarves surrounded him, patting him slightly.

“You got to learn how to fight without a weapon, though.” Bofur nudged his shoulder slightly. “That was painful to watch. It’s almost  _ like _ magic when you have a sword, because i could’na recognize that warrior we saw yesterday when I saw you just now.” He shook his head, laughing. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes, letting himself be supported by Ori and looking to the doorway in which Thorin had left quickly. Too quickly. He sighed, he was bound to mess something up. 

“I think I’ve had enough  _ training  _ for one day. How long are we staying here in Rivendell?” Bilbo rubbed his chest, the blooming bruises aching. 

“Lord Elrond said he must read the runes on the map at moonlight, the same moonlight when they were written.” Balin nodded, “and that moonlight will shine on us tomorrow night.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, “Really? Tomorrow night?” This just confirmed his suspicion; they were too early. 

“Aye. We get to spend more  _ lovely _ time with the Elves.” Kili rolled his eyes, trying his best to sound sardonic. 

Fili shoved his brother, laughing, “I bet you’re loving it, though, Kee.” who in return shoved his brother back, protesting. Bilbo smiled, at least one thing would always be right. 

#

Bilbo didn’t see Thorin or Dwalin for the rest of the day. He spent most of his day in the Library of Rivendell with Ori and an Elf who let them in, looking just a little suspiciously at Ori. After watching them for a while, the Elf must have decided that they weren’t going to set the library on fire, instead searching through scrolls and exploring the collection of works. 

“This is beautiful!” Ori sighed, running his hand across the book spines. “I’ve never seen a library like this.” 

Bilbo nodded, “It’s quite something, isn’t it?” He took out a book on gardening. He had read it a million times in his lifetime, and yet it was still his favourite book. The illustrations were beautiful, as was the writing. Ori walked over to him, curious. 

“Of course the Hobbit picks up a book about flowers.” Ori grinned, nudging Bilbo. At least Ori was comfortable enough with him. 

“Flowers are important in hobbit culture. We use them for almost any occasion. Parties, Weddings, Funerals, Courtships. You can say anything with flowers. I once sent my cousin Lobelia an orange lily after-” _ I found her ransacking Bag End when I came back from Erebor. _ “A-after I had visited my family elsewhere and found her with all my silverware in her pockets. She never forgave me!” Bilbo threw his head back, laughing.

Ori frowned, a little in disbelief, a little confused. “An orange lily? What does that mean?”

“It symbolises hatred and pride. It’s great when you want to send a message. As in,  _ hands off my silverware _ !” Bilbo grinned. 

Ori chuckled, grinning. “I never realised flowers held such a meaning for Hobbits. Then again, I didn’t know much about Hobbits before you.”

Bilbo nodded, turning the page and admiring the peony that was drawn on the page. “We take our gardening seriously. Like I said, if Hobbits had magic, we’d use it to grow our vegetables and our flowers. I bet you could grow some incredible potatoes.” He mused, a finger on his chin.  _ Could he? _

“Us dwarves have a certain type of magic. We use it to protect our homes, or to sharpen our weapons.” Ori whispered, a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder.  _ Sweet Ori. _

Bilbo feigned surprise, “Really? That makes sense, I guess.”

“Like the key that Thorin has. Without the key, dwarf doors are invisible. Impossible to open.” Ori told him. Bilbo remembered. 

Just then, his stomach grumbled loudly and Bilbo blushed slightly. Just then the Elf from earlier appeared with a small plate of small sandwiches, setting it down on the table next to them. 

“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Bilbo smiled brightly at the Elf and started eating quickly. Ori picked up a small sandwich, a bit hesitant but watched Bilbo’s enthusiasm and ate it. 

“It’s delicious.” Ori said, almost astounded. The Elf smirked. Ori looked at the elf, surprised to see such an emotion on the Elf’s face and the Elf dropped his smirk quickly. 

Bilbo huffed, shaking his head. He would start this. Extending a hand, he said, “My name is Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End. You’ve been very gracious to host us in your library.” 

The Elf nodded, “My name is Amathion, Ward of the Library.” He bowed his head slightly. “Lord Elrond instructed me to entertain our guests; I am surprised to see a dwarf with such an interest in anything that isn’t gold or gems.” 

Ori blushed brightly, stuttering, “I am Ori, son of Brairi.” He bowed his head as well. “Dwarves have always had an interest in history and literature.” He said with a proud tone, “I’ve never met an elf before.”

Amathion smiled, his long, pale hair falling over his shoulder. “I fear I didn’t know that.”

Ori puffed his chest out, “Erebor used to be the star of the dwarven kingdoms; its library was the most expansive any dwarf kingdom had. You could find a scroll from any kingdom, in almost any language. It held such detailed works about our history.” He sighed, “Not anymore. I’m sure it’s just collecting cobwebs, if it’s not been burnt down by that worm!” He frowned. 

“It sounds wonderful. Have you ever seen it? You look too young to have lived in Erebor, if what I know of dwarves is true.” Amathion tilted his head to the side, eyeing Ori’s beard. 

Ori shook his head, “I was born in the blue mountains. I’ve sadly never had the pleasure of seeing the library. But I study under Balin, and he lived most of his life there. He tells me about it all the time.” He smiled, stroking his beard. “I am quite young. Do you know much about dwarves?”

“Not too much. I know dwarves don’t appreciate outsiders, least of all elves.” Amathion laughed suddenly, throwing his head back. Bilbo raised his eyebrows, surprised. All the other elves in Rivendell had held their distance from the dwarves; not even passing a glance at them. 

Bilbo looked at Ori, who was stunned as well. “Th-that’s true.” The young dwarf swallowed nervously, a soft blush on his face. Bilbo grinned, intrigued. Ori could be such a well-spoken dwarf, but so shy at other times. 

He left the dwarf and elf to talk in private about the libraries in Erebor and Rivendell, wandering about the library. He was so lost in thought, admiring the many books, when he bumped into a table in front of him. 

“Oh-” he grumbled, when he noticed a plate with a scone on it. Freshly baked, from the smell of it. Just like the one that had been placed on his bed the night before. He frowned, looking around the library to see who could have put it there but saw no one else except for Ori and Amathion. 

He pursed his lips, inspecting the scone closely. It was still warm, it must have just come out of the oven. But he saw no one else. It was almost as if it had been placed there just for him.

“Amathion? Is this your scone?” He called out, turning around to the others. 

The Elf looked over and shook his head, smiling slightly. “I think you have a secret admirer, Bilbo Baggins.” 

Bilbo frowned, “A secret admirer? What?” He took the plate with him, walking back to the others. Ori looked at the scone with wide eyes. 

“If I knew then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?” Amathion chuckled, sitting down on the armchair next to the table. 

“Then how can you be so sure that I have a secret admirer?” Bilbo set the plate down, eyeing the scone. 

“I hear chatter from the kitchens.” The Elf shrugged, waving his hand lazily. “I think someone’s very excited that we are playing host to a Hobbit. They are famed for having a particular palette when it comes to baked goods. Plus, you need so much more food than an Elf or a Dwarf.” He grinned. 

“That’s very true. I keep telling people.” Bilbo huffed, ignoring the small chuckle from Ori. “But that doesn’t mean I have a secret  _ admirer _ \- it just means that I’m being well-fed by our Host.” He took the scone finally and took a bite. It was heavenly. 

“Well, it wouldn’t do to just take it. You should go to the Kitchens and thank whoever made that, shouldn’t you?” Amathion suggested, a polite tone and mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Ori’s eyes widened, “Are we allowed in the kitchens?”

“No, but I can escort you.” Amathion stood up, bowing slightly with an extended arm. 

“Good manners go a long way, I have to say.” Bilbo nodded and the three left the library, not noticing a dwarf in the shadows following them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be up on the weekend// not sure yet when but either friday or saturday!!!
> 
> tâdcuil- twice lived (literally two-life)


	6. Rivendellian Adventures: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thorin, you need to learn how to trust me if we are to go on this quest together. I wish you no harm- I wish to see Erebor reclaimed, with you on its throne.” Bilbo said quietly, rubbing the back of his head. “I wish you knew that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I meant to upload this chapter yesterday but the day went by much too quickly!!!! So here, have the next chapter!! I hope you enjoy <3 <3

Amathion led them down several flights of stairs, with long strides and amused smile when Ori and Bilbo fell behind. Bilbo knew Amathion was leading them the long way round to the kitchens, the ‘scenic’ route as it were. And it had the intended effect, Ori was gazing at everything he could, astounded and impressed. 

They arrived in a great hall, spread out with different work stations and several Elves preparing food. Most glared at Amathion for letting a _dwarf_ into the kitchens but didn’t say anything. 

What caught Bilbo’s eye was the small elf in the back. The Elf was still taller than himself, but only by a head whereas Amathion stood almost two and a half heads taller than Bilbo. The elf had shorter hair as well, a deep dark colour that was almost as dark as Thorin’s hair. He had never seen an elf with such features before. The Elf turned around and spotted them, turning around quickly. 

“I think we found your secret admirer.” Amathion said quietly, smiling. “That Síledir, he’s just an apprentice here.” He sounded surprised. The three walked across the hall, Ori walking closely behind Bilbo. 

Síledir turned around reluctantly to meet Amathion. The height difference was astounding. Now that Bilbo was closer, he could also see his face; the slightest amount of freckles and bright green eyes. Was he even an elf?

“Ward Amathion. How can I help you?” He bowed his head slightly towards the taller Elf, who was still smiling. 

“Our Guest here keeps finding scones wherever he turns. Do you know of this?” Amathion asked, his hand waving towards Bilbo. 

Síledir looked at Bilbo, a shy smile on his face. “Were they any good?” 

Bilbo chuckled softly, “They were amazing! It was you, wasn’t it? I’ve not had such a lovely scone in ages!” He patted his stomach cheerfully. 

The Elf sighed relieved, “I had hoped you would like them.” Was there a slight blush on his cheeks? Bilbo was unsure. 

“I loved them! I just wanted to thank whoever was baking me such lovely treats.” Bilbo extended his hand towards Síledir. The Elf smiled brightly and shook the Hobbit’s hand. 

“I heard that Hobbits need a lot more food than dwarves. And I was baking a fresh batch anyway, it’s part of my training. I-I thought, why not try them out on you? Hobbits are supposed to have a very particular palette.” The Elf rambled a bit, straightening his robes almost nervously. 

“I’m honoured!” Bilbo grinned, “If you have any more treats for me, I would be delighted.”

Síledir matched Bilbo’s smile and nodded, “I’m just preparing the dessert for tonight. It’s supposed to be a grand feast. And Haradaer put me in charge of baking the treats!” He said excitedly, motioning towards his table which was covered in flour and dough. 

“Is there anything in particular you or the dwarf would like?” He looked at Ori, who was still standing close behind Bilbo. 

“Anything with honey would be amazing.” Bilbo chuckled. Not only did he himself have a fondness for honeyed treats, he knew the dwarves had as well, confirmed by Ori’s enthusiastic nods. 

Síledir bowed again, “I will get started then. If you’ll excuse me.” He turned back to his table, a new vigour in his movements. 

Amathion chuckled, shaking his head as they turned and left the hall. “I think the young one’s very excited to have such extraordinary guests in Rivendell.”

“I suppose you don’t get thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard here very often.” Bilbo chuckled good-naturedly and nodded. He thought he could see a figure quickly leave the hall in front of them but he couldn’t be sure. 

“A-Amathion, could I ask you something about Síledir?” Ori asked suddenly, now walking next to Bilbo instead of hiding behind him. Amathion nodded, raising his eyebrows. 

“I don’t mean to be rude but I couldn’t help but notice that he looked quite different, compared to the rest of the Elves I’ve seen.” Ori asked slowly. Bilbo nodded, he didn’t remember ever seeing such an Elf before. 

Amathion nodded slowly. “It’s not a rude question. It’s quite obvious. I’m unsure whether you know about Lord Elrond but he is a half elf. His ancestors held both eldarin and edain blood. Elvish and Human. Síledir is a bit like that, only much more direct. His father was a Knight of Gondor and his mother is the fair Lady Taethriel. It was quite the scandal when it happened. The Lady Taethriel was on a diplomatic mission, when she was attacked by Orcs and Déodan of Gondor slew all the vile beasts surrounding her. They fell in love shortly after and Lady Taethriel bore Síledir. He bears much more edain blood than any elf ever has for a long time. He’s just reached maturity at 140 years old, but he will not grow much more. He can look very human when he wants to.” He explained patiently. 

Ori nodded, “He’s quite short.”

“Among men he would be.” Amathion nodded, “He’s quite the talented baker. You’re fortunate he has taken to you. You’ll get honeyed goods out of it.” He laughed, throwing his head back. It was almost an obscene sound, such a rough laugh coming from the Elf. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes, “It isn’t very kind of you to tease him like that. I appreciate any and all baked goods that are given to me.” He held his hands up. “Us Hobbits are very charming, you know.” He winked at Ori, who grinned back. 

He was very much looking forward to dinner now. Dwalin may still be suspicious of him, Thorin is distant again and he still had the rest of the journey to prepare for. But at least there were going to be honeyed goods and he has Ori on his side.

#

Bilbo had no words to describe the scene in front of him. Not really, anyway. He could describe the fountain well enough with its cascading water from the mountain above. He could describe the birds fluttering in the trees, the peaceful aura of nature around. 

What he could not describe was what was _in_ the fountain. Or rather, _who_. Almost the entire Company was in the fountain, soap bubbling delightfully around the merry bunch. The _naked_ bunch. 

Bilbo dared to look up at Amathion, who looked like he just had a heart attack. He had a hand covering his gaping mouth, but there was nothing to hide the shock in his eyes. Ori on the other hand laughed, waving to Dori who was beckoning him to join them. 

Ori was about to run to his brothers but paused, turning around to Amathion and Bilbo with an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid my brothers and the rest decided they needed to bathe. I do apologise for them. The fountain’s not to be used in that way, is it?”

Amathion shook himself out of his shock and hesitated, frowning. “No-not at all- you don’t even know the significance of the fountain- oh-” He seemed to not know even where to start with his beratement then looked down at Ori who was doing his best to look apologetic. 

“Oh but-” Amathion shook his head, laughing as if he couldn’t believe what he was watching. “Go on, then.” he waved at Ori, sighing. “It’s already been defiled. Might as well make the most of it before Lord Elrond catches you.” He winked at Ori and watched him rush off towards Dori, stripping off quickly in the process. 

The Elf turned to Bilbo, shaking his head. “I must take my leave back to the library. Would you care to join me, or would you rather stay here with your friends?” he grinned. 

Bilbo looked at the dwarves, trying to identify each one. Without their intricate braids and too much wet hair and skin, it was more than difficult. He could see Fili and Kili shoving each other deeper in the water. He could see Gloin and Oin in the back, washing themselves in the most relaxed way Bilbo had ever seen the two. Bofur, without his hat, but with a pipe in his mouth, was floating in the water next to Bombur who was washing his bear with careful hands, Bifur sitting behind him and washing his cousins hair. Dori was washing Ori’s hair gently, as a mother would her child while Nori was floating next to them, imitating Bofur. 

The only dwarves missing were Thorin, Balin and Dwalin. 

Bilbo hesitated, but Amathion simply nodded and left, and Bilbo swore he could hear the Elf laughing as he walked away. 

“Oi! Bilbo! Come join us! You must want to wash off all the Elf you’ve been gathering!” Fili laughed, waving to him. 

“What, with more elf-water? I’m not sure the logic is as sound as you think it is!” Bilbo laughed, walking closer. “My feet do need a good washing.”

“Water is water, Bilbo. There’s no elf hiding in here.” Kili splashed his brother, laughing. 

“I’ll just go get my soap and I’ll join-”

“Nonsense! Use ours! Come on!” Fili grinned, offering him the bar of soap. 

Bilbo raised an eyebrow and sighed, “The water cannot be that good. Why are you so cheery?” He started taking off his coat and shirt. It wasn’t proper at all for him to join the dwarves, not proper at all. Hobbits don’t bathe communally after they reach maturity, nevermind in a public space. The first time round, Bilbo had had difficulty bathing with the others, always standing off to the side for a modicum of privacy. But now, Bilbo didn’t mind. Besides, it wasn’t as if _Thorin_ was watching him. 

He entered the fountain and released a small, surprised “huh!”. What looked like cold water turned out to be warm. It almost felt cleansing all on its own. “I did not expect that.” he sat down and put his foot on the ledge, scrubbing the bottom of his foot softly. It had been too long since he groomed his feet. 

“Odd for you to start with your feet. I figured you’d want to wash your hair first.” Kili slid next to him, resting his head on the ledge. 

“Mhm, no, feet first. Always first.” Bilbo hummed, enjoying the proper cleaning. He washed the soft tufts of hair on top of his foot as well, combing through the hair gently. 

“I thought it was just layers but Hobbits really are pudgy and round, aren’t they, Fee?” Kili teased, poking Bilbo’s round stomach. 

“As they should be! I dread to think what this journey will make of me.” Bilbo slapped Kili’s hands away, turning back to his foot and spotted a familiar face entering the clearing. 

Thorin, Dwalin and Balin walked in and stopped. Dwalin laughed heartily at the dwarves, instantly undressing to join them. Balin did the same, just much more slower and gracefully. 

The King however stopped and stared at Bilbo and his nephews. Bilbo held the eye contact, continuing to wash his foot properly. _How much can he see?_ Bilbo wondered, fighting away a blush as Thorin started walking towards them, taking off his coat. 

Bilbo hadn’t noticed Fili and Kili chattering excitedly, waving at Thorin to join them and their burglar. Their exact words. 

Thorin paused in front of them then sat down on the ledge, taking his boots off slowly. “I don’t suppose this fountain was _supposed_ to be used for bathing, my dear nephews.” He started slowly, then laughed merrily, “But we shall use it anyway!" 

Bilbo sat there, watching Thorin and clutching the bar of soap. After the morning, Bilbo had thought Thorin would remain distant. Would remain whichever mood he had been in. Warmth filled his heart when Thorin turned to Bilbo, the laughter still on his lips. He was beautiful like this and Bilbo was sure he was blushing brightly. 

Thorin took off his shirt, untying his breeches as he stood up and folded his clothes neatly on the ground and joined his nephews, undoing his braids as he went. 

Bilbo had quickly looked away after Thorin had taken his shirt off, blushing furiously now. He just _knew_ his head was as red as his priced tomatoes. How could Thorin be so hot and cold on the same day? And how could he subject Bilbo to this? 

“Are you going to hog the soap for much longer, there, Master Burglar?” Thorin’s voice came from right behind him and Bilbo jumped out of his skin, dropping the bar of soap in the water. He turned around quickly, stuttering a meek apology and fishing around for the soap. 

He found the bar of soap, looking up to find Thorin close to him. Both were on their knees, the water reaching their chests. 

“Thank you.” Thorin said quietly, taking the bar of soap from the Hobbit’s hand, the slow contact was arduous for Bilbo. 

But he wasn’t a blushing barmaid. He faced Smaug and he fought in battle against orcs and goblins. He could deal with Thorin’s hand touching his. He could deal with being so close with the dead love of his life. What he _couldn’t_ deal with was said love of his life’s icy blue eyes, piercing through him.

“N-no problem.” Bilbo cleared his throat and edged back, sitting against the ledge. Thorin gave him a small nod and turned back to his nephews, running the bar of soap through his thick, long hair. 

“Uncle, will you allow me to braid your hair?” Kili grinned brightly from where he sat next to Bilbo. 

“Kee, you don’t even know how to braid properly. Uncle should let _me_ braid his hair.” Fili puffed his chest proudly, sliding through the water to sit next to Thorin. It was easy to see how much Fili and Kili adored their uncle, easy to see how much Thorin cared for them as well. Thorin took Fili’s hands, guiding them through his hands while murmuring in khuzdul, sending a wink towards Kili. 

It made him miss Frodo all the more. 

Bilbo watched Thorin, who had his back turned to him, watched the muscles on his back flex. He forgot how muscular Thorin had been; how much the furs covered when he wore his clothes. Bilbo would have felt inappropriate, had he been leering at the dwarf. Instead, a deep sadness filled the Hobbit, as well as a fierce desire to protect Thorin. He knew that all the strength couldn’t help you when your opponent had a sword and you didn’t. 

He knew he was getting lost in his own thoughts and memories again, he realized this as he could feel Kili staring at him, presumably talking to him but he couldn’t shake out of it. He almost felt paralysed in a way, and all he could do was close his eyes and live through it again. 

“-bo! Bilbo!” He finally heard Kili who was almost shouting, shaking his shoulder as Bilbo had slid almost completely into the water. The Hobbit cleared his throat, which had never felt tighter before, and smiled weakly at Kili. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled and blinked away the tears that had built up. “I just got lost in my own head there.” He tried to chuckle but it didn’t sound right. “I think I’m all washed up for today.” Bilbo didn’t look at Thorin though he knew he held the attention of the dwarf. 

He turned around and climbed out of the water, shaking. It was the cool breeze that was causing his shiver. That was it. He picked up his clothes quickly and walked away, ignoring the stares boring into his back. Just as he turned the corner, he bumped into an Elf. 

How _mortifying._

The small Hobbit looked up to see Lord Elrond and another dark-haired Elf next to him. He swallowed, utterly embarrassed, and tried to smile. “Lord Elrond.” 

“Bilbo Baggins. What are you doing, running around naked in Rivendell?” He raised a single eyebrow, hiding an amused smile.

“Oh, eh, nothing, nothing. Good evening!” He called as he quickly ran past the two elves, shaking his head. The air dried his naked body and hair quite quickly and he was fully dry by the time he reached the guest room. He should have washed his clothes while he had the chance. 

Taking out his second change of clothing from his bag, he changed quickly and folded his dirty clothes next to his bed. Maybe he could wash them somewhere quietly. Without any dwarves. Without any possibility of embarrassing himself even further. Each day had its own challenges, whether it was an orc pack hunting them down or trying not to cry when he saw Thorin. He didn’t know which one was worse.

#

The rest of the day went by quite fast. The dwarves seemed back to their jolly selves, having accepted the hospitality of the Elves much more willingly than the last time. They also had a lot more interaction with the residents here. Well, some dwarves at least. Ori and Bilbo spent the rest of the day with Amathion in the library, comparing texts and histories. It was wonderful to see the friendship that was blossoming between the two, sharing a love for books. 

Dinner was a welcome change though, with the promise of dessert. Ori must have told the other dwarves, quite excitedly, about Síledir’s promise and his scones for Bilbo for which the Hobbit received many stares. Most were excited, Bofur clapping Bilbo’s shoulder, with a laugh, “Charming the kitchen for some extra dessert? We’ll make a dwarf of ye yet!”

Bilbo had leant into the touch, smiling brightly. “Or maybe I’ll make Hobbits out of you all.”

Thorin had cast him some dark stares throughout dinner. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he had stormed off earlier, or his friendliness with Síledir or even Bofur from the looks that Thorin sent to the dwarf. 

Síledir himself came out, carrying trays filled with small pastries, honey drizzled over them. He was positively beaming with pride when Bilbo had devoured two within seconds, nodding at him. The other dwarves did not hesitate to have some as well, and Síledir couldn’t have looked more pleased. Even Dwalin had one, licking his fingers after he finished it. 

Of course, that meant that Dwalin was instantly teased by others for his begrudging trust. 

Bilbo turned to Bofur with a quirk of his eyebrow, “What happened after Lord Elrond caught you in his fountain?”

“Oh well, you made off at a wise time, didn’t ye?” Bofur chuckled, nudging the Hobbit gently. “He didn’t actually do much, just sort of watched in horror. He walked in just as Bombur stood up, washing his arse!” He laughed suddenly, throwing a sausage from his plate to his brother, who caught it in his mouth. 

“Not the most opportune moment.” Bombur munched on the sausage happily, his hair neatly braided back into his signature loop. Bilbo nodded, chuckling. 

“I ran into Lord Elrond after I left, I was still quite naked.” He blushed slightly, shaking his head. 

“Maybe the Lord enjoys a little bit of nudity from his guests.” Bofur tapped his nose, winking at Bilbo. Síledir pouted at Bilbo, almost a jealous frown and left quickly. If Bilbo didn’t know any better, he would say Thorin shared Síledir’s frown. But that wouldn’t be possible. Bilbo snuck a glance at Thorin who looked away quickly. 

The King was difficult to read and it was hard to focus on him when Bofur was laughing in his ear about how he was going to become known as _bashug knurlnien_ but wouldn’t tell Bilbo what it actually meant. From the guffaws and barks of laughter (and further glares from Thorin) Bilbo could only guess it was something most amusing for him and most embarrassing for him. 

Ori wouldn’t even tell him, mumbling something about Bofur being silly and not meaning it but it was hard to miss Ori’s bright blush. He hoped it wasn’t an insult but from the way Bofur was winking at him, he didn’t think so. 

The dwarves were left alone for the second night, the Elves retreating and leaving them to their own devices. Bilbo shook his head, for as soon as their hosts left, the dwarves turnt to make themselves more comfortable in the room. Bombur sat on a table, holding a small plate of food close to his mouth. Dwalin and Thorin were sitting on the ground near a tree, leaning on the trunk. Bofur took to making a small fire and Bilbo looked away, not wanting to know _what_ he used to make that fire with. 

It was a merry night with the dwarves singing songs that would be sung in a tavern. Bilbo knew how much they treasured their own songs, but he knew this one from the last time they were in Rivendell. Bofur had sung this while stomping on the dining table in front of Lord Elrond and Gandalf. At least this time, neither Lord Elrond nor Gandalf were there to see it. Bilbo laughed along in any case, clapping with the others. 

#

There was an excitement in the air. The other dwarves were chattering over each other, _what would the map tell us?_

  
“Do we really have to wait till evening? That’s so far away.” Ori sighed, leaning against Bilbo. 

The Hobbit chuckled, nodding. “It feels far away, but it really isn’t. You’ll see. The day will go by so fast.” He comforted the young dwarf, looking up from his book when an unfamiliar elf walked into the library, nodded at Amathion and headed towards Bilbo and Ori. The two stood up as he approached them. 

  
“Master Baggins.” The Elf bowed his head, “Lord Elrond has requested a meeting with you. Alone.” The She-Elf smiled politely at Ori and Bilbo closed his book, giving it to the dwarf. 

“Of course. I’ll see you later, Ori.” He set the book on the table they had been sitting on, clapped Ori on his shoulder and followed the Elf as soon as she turned and started to walk out. 

She was silent as they walked, and delivered Bilbo to what Bilbo knew was Elrond’s office. “Here you are.” She nodded and knocked on the door, “Lord Elrond. I have collected the Hobbit you requested.” 

Lord Elrond opened the door, smiling softly at Bilbo. “Come in, come in. Thank you, Lanneth.” He nodded at the Elf who bowed towards him and left quickly. 

Bilbo walked into the office and was immediately blinded by a bright light. Squinting at the centre of the office, he saw a tall shape. Blonde hair, white flowing robes. 

“Lady Galadriel!” Bilbo gasped and the light faded to reveal the Lady of Lothlórien, her radiance filling the room and warming his heart. 

“Bilbo Baggins.” She smiled at the small Hobbit and bowed her head slightly-at him! Bilbo didn’t know how to react, stunned. He had never met her but he had heard stories- and of course directly from Frodo. He had done her justice. 

“Wh-what gives me the pleasure of meeting the beautiful and wise Lady of Lothlórien?” Bilbo asked slowly, regaining his composure. He could tell Gandalf was trying not to laugh at him. 

Lady Galadriel tilted her head slightly and walked closer to him. It seemed the whole world moved with her, and he could feel the warmth of her radiance even more. “I felt a change in the universe. Something had been changed by the Valar themselves.” She says, her hand reaching out for Bilbo. “And I followed to find out. You bear the marking of Lady Yavanna, Bilbo Baggins.” She smiled softly, her hand touching his hair and he did his best to stand as still as he could. 

Looking up at her, he nodded softly. “She- she talks to me sometimes.” He whispered, smiling at the Lady. It was difficult not to, when all she brought was light. 

She nodded back, taking her hand away from him, turning around and walking back to where she originally stood. Bilbo took one step, as if to follow her, then caught himself. 

“You have returned from the future.” She said flatly, “And you have a burden to bear.”

Bilbo nodded. 

“I wish to offer you my service, _Arataronnen._ Lady Yavanna has spoken and she has chosen you. We will follow you, Bilbo Baggins.” She offered and Bilbo was **sure** he was having a stroke. Or a dream. This couldn’t be real. 

Gandalf nodded, “We all agreed, Bilbo. This will be on a need to know basis. Only the three of us know. I am sure others will be able to tell. But we trust in the Valar and we trust in you.”

“This-this is too much. You don’t even know what I am doing here.” Bilbo spoke, his voice croaky and weak. “I-I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” He looked around to see Lord Elrond, face as neutral as ever. “I will need your help. Not now, not in the next week. But in the future. The Enemy is growing.” He said, biting his lip. 

_Yavanna, stop me._ He thought, was he allowed to tell them this much? They must have known this time around. 

Nothing happened, the silence in the room stretching and Bilbo nodded, straightening his waist-coat; a nervous tick. 

Gandalf nodded, “A dark evil is returning to this world.”

“Soon there will be a battle. A battle for Erebor, and it will cost much. It will cost _too_ much-” He paused, his throat tightening, “but it will decide a few things in the future. We must win. The orcs must not capture Erebor. Thorin must-” **Stop.**

He took a step back, hands flying to his ears. A loud ringing followed the booming voice and when he looked back at the others, he knew he had been the only one to hear. 

“I fear that is as much as I am allowed to tell.” He said quietly, rubbing his ears softly. “That is all you need to know.” 

Lady Galadriel nodded, “We will make due. Thank you, Bilbo Baggins. Fear not, for you are not alone.” She smiled and Bilbo bowed again, taking this cue to leave. 

He didn’t make it past the hallway when he bumped into someone, causing him to fall to the floor. The force of the other person had managed to throw Bilbo on his back and he hit his head roughly. 

“Bilbo-” Thorin knelt next to him, cradling his head. Bilbo looked up at the dwarf and grunted, his head aching. 

“Have- have you been following me?” He groaned, trying to stand up. Thorin helped him, glaring at him. 

“You should pay more attention to where you’re going.” He ignored Bilbo’s question, squaring his shoulders. 

Bilbo huffed, rubbing the back of his head. “Very well. Deflect my question. What are you doing here?”

Thorin glared at Bilbo even more, “What did you tell those Elves? I saw that elf take you into Elrond’s little office.” He took a step closer, almost in Bilbo’s personal space. “What did you tell them?”

Bilbo matched Thorin’s glare, ignoring the pain in his head and the shaking in his knees. “Nothing that would compromise the quest. So, none of your business.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I think you owe me an apology for knocking me on my back. It’s very rude, and my head hurts.” 

Thorin’s glare softened and he took a step back, eyes looking down. “I apologise, Master Burglar. I didn’t intend to hurt you.” 

“Thorin, you need to learn how to trust me if we are to go on this quest together. I wish you no harm- I wish to see Erebor reclaimed, with you on its throne.” Bilbo said quietly, rubbing the back of his head. “I wish you knew that.” 

Thorin looked up at Bilbo with an unreadable expression. He nodded and left quickly without another word. 

Bilbo sniffed, and sighed. _Yavanna, save me from the stubbornness of dwarves._

**I will not. Talk to Mahal for that one.**

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear laughter as well as the booming voice. 

#

He had been right. The day passed rather quickly. Going back to Ori, the two spent more time with Amathion, comparing dwarvish, elvish and hobbitish tales with each other. Bilbo would miss the Elf when they had to leave. Once he had warmed up to them- and warm up to them he did rather quickly- he was unlike the typical, reserved Elf. _Were they all like this_ , Bilbo wondered, _so reserved and stoic in front of strangers, but so warm and open with friends?_

They enjoyed a quick lunch together, after which Dori found them and brought them back to the guest room. He could guess what was going to happen and waved Amathion goodbye, “I hope to see you soon!” 

Amathion laughed, “You know where to find me!” and spread his arms, motioning around him. 

“We need to be ready to leave. Thorin is to meet Lord Elrond with Balin and Gandalf as soon as night falls. After they finish the meeting, we leave.” Dori whispered to them when they were still walking back. 

“What, you mean we need to sneak away?” Ori pouted, looking back at the library. 

“Yes. Thorin doesn’t think the elves will let us go willingly once they realize what we are actually doing.” Dori rushed the two, one hand on either’s backs. 

As soon as they were back in the rooms, Bilbo packed up his small bag neatly. He didn’t get to wash his dirty clothes, his small hobbit heart complained. “Will we at least have dinner?” he called out, to no one in particular. 

Bofur appeared next to him and nodded with a big smile, “Aye. Your little elf offered to bring us our dinner here.” 

The Hobbit pouted, “He’s not my elf. And that’s very kind of him.” He buckled his bag shut, looking away from Bofur. 

“He’s a strange one, isn’t he, Bombur?” Bofur called out to his brother. 

“Maybe so. But that elf knows his way around a pastry!” Bombur called back, laughing. 

“You’re not going to tease him, are you, Bofur?” Bilbo asked slowly, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

Bofur’s smile widened, “Me? I would never, Bilbo.”

#

Thorin didn’t join them for dinner. Neither did Balin, Dwalin, Fili or Kili. Bilbo wasn’t sure whether that was for the better or for the worse. He missed the two young dwarves; he missed his old friend Balin. On the other hand, Dwalin was still incredibly suspicious and he didn’t need them to see that an Elf had taken a liking to Bilbo. (Or so Bofur keeps teasing him.)

Síledir brought their dinner a short while after, several Elves entering the guest room with two trays each. 

He brought Bilbo’s tray himself, leaning down next to the Hobbit as he watched Bilbo start eating greedily. “I heard whispers from the other dwarves.” The half-elf said quietly, “Do you really mean to sneak away later?”

Bilbo paused and looked around to the others. They were mostly busy eating or laughing with each other. Bofur caught his eyes, winking at the Hobbit. He looked back, stuffing his face with the mashed potatoes Síledir brought. “I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you. I’m sorry.” He said after swallowing a good portion. The food was, as always, excellent. 

Síledir nodded wistfully, almost a disappointed expression on his face. “I don’t expect to see you tomorrow, then.”

“No, I don’t think you will.” Bilbo sighed, “I already miss your delicious food.” He offered the half-elf a smile as he raised his spoon to him. 

Síledir nodded again, standing up. “ _Tenn' enomentielva,_ Bilbo Baggins.” The half-elf bowed towards the Hobbit, leaning over. He took Bilbo’s face in his hands and leant in, rubbing their noses together. Bilbo didn’t react, then by instinct, he set his plate aside and reached for Síledir’s face, rubbing their noses together. He was surprised at the half-elf’s knowledge of Hobbit etiquette but he could appreciate it very much. 

He also chose to ignore the sudden outcry from the other dwarves. And, Bilbo was sure, the Elves’ glare.

Síledir stood back up with a bright smile, “I always wanted to do that!”

Bilbo laughed, taking his plate back on his lap and filled his mouth with mashed potatoes. “Where did you learn how to do that?” He asked after he swallowed. 

“Amathion may have leant me a book about Hobbits.” Síledir blushed the slightest bit, smiling shyly. 

_I’m gonna send that elf a flower._ Bilbo shook his head, “Of course he did. Farewell, Síledir.” 

The half-elf left with all the other elves, who were whispering softly in Sindarin, but they were too quiet for Bilbo to understand them. 

“What was _that_?!” he heard one of the dwarves shout.

“Bilbo, why were ye rubbing faces with an _Elf?!_ ” Another shouted. They had all abandoned their plates of food, rushing over to Bilbo, who was still eating his food. 

“Are ye okay? Did he do that _without_ your permission?!” Gloin growled, taking his axe out. “I will-”

“That was a Hobbit farewell, if you must know!” Bilbo shouted over the louse rabble of dwarves threatening to protect _their_ hobbit. 

The shouting stopped and Ori pushed to the front, “Really? But that’s so- _intimate_.” He almost whispered. The other dwarves were silent, waiting for Bilbo’s reaction. Bofur laid down behind Bilbo on the bed, grinning. Bilbo was sure he was just enjoying the chaos. 

“Not for Hobbits. That’s how everyone greets each other- if you’re proper. Far away kin, close kin, friends, strangers. Usually it’s only done with other Hobbits. We don’t meet a lot of other non-Hobbits and they would never know our greetings.” Bilbo shrugged, finishing his plate. He stood up, nudging the other dwarves back. 

“Teach us! If that Elf gets to know Hobbit stuff, we want to know too!” Bofur grinned, demanding, and stood up as well. 

Bilbo shook his head at the other dwarves who were shouting in agreement. 

“Fine! I will teach you!” He shouted, waving his hands. “All you do is this-” He took Ori’s face in his and leant in close, rubbing their noses together. He let go of his friend’s face and took a step back. “If you don’t know them, you would lean in to the left. If you know them, you start from the right. You might throw in a, ‘How’s the world fare?’ and you could answer, ‘as well as the brew in the green dragon’.” Bilbo explained to the curious dwarves. As soon as he had shown them how to do it, they were trying out this new greeting. Bofur snatched Bilbo up, holding his face gently and rubbing their noses together. 

“How’s the world fare?” Bofur grinned, leaning back. 

Bilbo laughed, “As well as the brew in the green dragon.”

#

Thorin came by late in the evening, a troubled expression on his face. “We leave now.” He said quietly, leaning into the guest room. The dwarves were all sitting down in a circle with Bilbo in the middle, who had been telling them a classic Hobbit tale. 

They all stood up quickly, each grabbing their pack and following their leader out. Bilbo strapped on _Sting_ as quick as he could and put on his backpack. He was the last one to leave the main gate, looking back to see if he could at least say goodbye to their host, and Gandalf of course. He should have said goodbye earlier, he knew they were going to sneak out. 

_Goodbye, Bilbo Baggins. Good luck._ He heard a soft, gentle whisper in his mind and recognized that warmth. _Mithrandir will catch up with you soon_

The Hobbit nodded and turned around, following the Company out of Rivendell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be up either tuesday or wednesday! (
> 
> bashug knurlnien- literally Hobbit + 'heart of stone' so, together, it's like a hobbitish heartbreaker?
> 
> Arataronnen- Valar-born
> 
> I posted a little illustration about Amathion and Síledir on my instagram @pallalalo <3


	7. The Misty Mountains, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hobbit smiled at the wizard, remembering Galadriel's words. 
> 
> You are not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter is a little shorter than usual but i felt it was a natural stopping point :P
> 
> also i will have to stop updating (or at least trying to) every two to three days as I have a lot of work to do on my dissertation://
> 
> so i will only be updating once a week (for now.)
> 
> thank you for all the lovely comments <3 <3

The first time around, it had taken them a good five days to reach the Misty Mountains from Rivendell. Bilbo had hoped they could have taken their ponies with them; did the really have to sneak away from Lord Elrond?

Bilbo hadn’t seen the moon runes this time around, merely heard it repeated from Thorin when he told the Company of them. The last time, Thorin had asked him to join them but Bilbo hadn’t been sure why. He was also unsure of why Thorin had changed his mind this time around. 

The Company walked in a single file, Thorin at the front and leading the way though it was mostly Balin, secretly pointing Thorin in the right direction. His sense of direction was horrible if it didn’t involve a mountain. Hopeless in the open air. Bilbo was at the back, his trusty walking stick in his hand that he had found nearby Rivendell with Ori in front of him. 

They walked mostly in silence, though Fili and Kili would sing the occasional song to keep the mood light. Ori would join in with them, sometimes Bofur as well. Bilbo listened intently, though he knew these tunes well and had documented them in his book,  _ There and Back Again _ . It was lovely to hear them again, sung with such joy from young dwarves. 

_ The wind was on the withered heath, _

_ but in the forest stirred no leaf _

Bilbo hummed along as the Company made their way through the forest, past the river and into the plainlands. They rested in the afternoon after having walked since dawn, having made it further than the last time. They set up camp near the stream, flowing from the uneven pieces of rock down. They had stayed close to the forest, a precaution in case of unwanted surprises. 

Bombur was cooking a broth in the middle of camp, aided by Kili and Fili who had gone hunting in the nearby forest and caught two rabbits. 

Bilbo was laying on his back, watching the clouds pass them by. The nice, summer weather would soon be gone. They only had a short while till Durin’s day, and even then, they were still too early. At this pace, they would reach the secret entrance before Durin’s day. By the time they reach Laketown, the air will have turned cold and frost will claw at everything. 

A nasty time for everyone involved, but especially for Bilbo. His hobbit feet were not used to the rough terrain of the mountain side, and while it was just fine in the summer when it was still warm, it was downright a test of his will as the autumn in Erebor felt like winter in the Shire. He hadn’t dared to stay for the actual winter in Erebor, leaving straight after the funeral. 

He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, taking in the moment of chaos around him. He could hear Fili and Kili whispering excitedly, no doubt planning on pranking someone. Bofur was chatting to Bifur, a one-sided conversation for Bilbo to hear. Somewhere he could make out the voices of Oin and Gloin, discussing the need to collect certain supplies. Their voices blended together, the perfect tone for the moment. The worst was still to come, one obstacle after each other, each one worse than the one before. 

He could also hear Thorin’s voice, speaking in khuzdul with whom Bilbo could only guess to be Balin and Dwalin. He could pick out his name- or at least, a version of it. 

They moved on shortly after that, keeping a steady pace. With his tummy full, Bilbo could keep very well. His body was starting to accomodate to two meals a day, three if he’s lucky. Not well, he was still hungry most of the time and he could feel his hands shaking when it went on for too long but he bore it- he wouldn’t let any of the dwarves say he would be the one to drag them behind. 

They were much faster this time around, and Bilbo was worried. It took them four days and they were camping at the bottom of the Misty Mountains. Night had fallen and they set up camp, just hidden off of the main path. Bilbo stood on the main path now, having snuck away from the others. He knew what awaited them, but they were off schedule. 

_ The stone giants wouldn’t be raging. That would be good. _ Bilbo thought, pacing along the road.  _ We must avoid the cave. The Goblin King needs to be slain. I must find the Ring. Azog will be there. Where is he now? I must find the  _ **_Ring._ ** His thoughts turned to the One Ring, as he turned around to stare at the Mountains ahead of him. 

Somewhere in there, Gollum was cradling  _ his- _ the Ring. He had given it up willingly. He had given it to Frodo as a gift, not knowing what it had been. Now he knew. He knew, and his heart yearned for it in the ugliest way. Was this how Thorin had felt? He dug his fingernails into the scabs on the palms of his hands. He needed the Ring. He needed to destroy it. 

But there was something else inside of him. The warmth that Yavanna had given him, it was in his hands now. Would he be able to resist the Ring as much as he had the last time? The last time he had just been a simple Gentlehobbit. Now, he was something much more. 

He turned his back on the mountain, looking back to the camp; or rather where the camp was hidden.  _ Will it know? Will  _ **_he_ ** _ know? _ He thought anxiously, physically wringing his hands together now. 

“Bilbo!” A voice startled him out of his deep thoughts and the Hobbit looked up to find Gandalf, on his horse, in front of him with a small smile. “I didn’t think I’d find you here. Where are the rest of the dwarves?” He got off of his horse slowly, taking the reins in one hand and holding his staff in the other. He was a welcome sight to Bilbo. 

“We camped over there.” Bilbo pointed towards a massive rock at the base of the mountain. “I didn’t expect to see you either.” He said slowly. Gandalf would definitely come in handy in navigating through the mountains. Maybe they didn’t have to get captured by the goblins again. How would he find the Ring again?

“No? Interesting. I would always follow the Company.” he said and nodded for Bilbo to come with him. “How is everyone faring?”

“Still jolly. Fili and Kili sung this lovely song earlier, it really cheered me up.” Bilbo chuckled, a small smile on his face. 

Gandalf quirked an eyebrow, “And what was this song called?”

“A Hobbit on a Mountain-” Bilbo started speaking but Kili popped out from behind the mountain and stepped before Gandalf, singing. 

_ Oh there’s a Hobbit on the Mountain above _

_ With his big feet and no handkerchief _

_ Not with his adventurous dwarves to love  _

_ But what’s he done, oh what’s he done? _

_ He’s signed a contract, yes he has and now _

_ Run out his door without a plan _

_ A small, soft Hobbit where he’s never been  _

_ An adventure to reclaim the dwarves’ treasure _

_ Oh there’s a Hobbit on the Mountain above _

Fili had joined his brother half way through, singing loudly as they walked with Gandalf and Bilbo to the camp, ending by putting their arms around the small Hobbit. Gandalf couldn’t help himself, or maybe he didn’t care to, and laughed along, clapping in the rhythm of the song. 

Bilbo was honoured that the two young dwarves made a song about him. But- “The last word of the second verse doesn’t fit, you know. It’s two syllables when it should be one.” He said, laughing and nudging the dwarves off of him. 

Kili pouted, “Master Boggins, I am no Master Poet. All I can offer you is the sweet spontaneity of song.” He bowed, mockingly. Fili bowed as well, “With some corrections, of course.”

“Don’t think I forgot about that bit about me being small and soft.” Bilbo huffed, rolling his eyes. They arrived at the camp and Gandalf was greeted with cheers, Thorin even smiling at him. 

“What about your dwarves to love?” Fili asked slowly, standing next to Bilbo. “What do you think of that?”

Bilbo looked at him, taking in the young dwarf in. His bright golden hair was neatly braided back, to stay out of his face but also to signify his life. He still had a spark in his eyes, and a smirk on his face. He put his hand on the younger dwarf’s shoulder. “I think it’s lovely. You and Kili are wonderful songsmiths.” He looked at Kili who stood on his other side. 

“To have a song written about me is the highest honour I don’t deserve. By dwarves, nonetheless!” He shook his head and turned to face them, taking a step backwards. “If only the Shire could hear such a song. Everyone would be in an uproar. A hobbit on a mountain, indeed.” Bilbo chuckled at the thought of a scandalised Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. 

#

It was much easier to distract himself from the mountain and its contents with Gandalf here, who brought the Camp in uproar at his suggested route through the mountain.

“You mean to lead us through Goblin-town.” Thorin said darkly, the shadows on his face flickering away as the fire crackled in front of him. It was fear, mostly, that was on his face, with the slightest sense of suspicion. 

“No, not through the town itself. There's a system of tunnels running through the mountains. It would be much faster if we go through than above. Dwarves have stone-sense, do they not? If we kill a few Goblins on the way, then the world will be a better place for it. I’d rather face Goblins rather than those Stone-giants ahead, wouldn’t you? At least we stand a chance against these foul creatures. The giants won’t even notice if they squash you with their fists.” Gandalf huffed, puffing along on his pipe. 

Bilbo listened in on the conversation, leaning against a large boulder. He wasn’t a participant in this decision, but he could plan around it. It would be better to pick up the ring sooner rather than later. _ Lest someone else picks it up _ \- at the thought, Bilbo recoiled physically. Not only was it  _ his- _ He couldn’t trust anyone else to have it.

Thorin kept looking over at Bilbo, soft glances with a curiosity, almost. 

“What do you think?” his voice suddenly called for Bilbo, who turned around to face the others. 

“What?” He quirked an eyebrow, confused.  _ He hadn’t meant him- _

“Master Burglar, what do you think of Gandalf’s plan?” Thorin had stood up, walking around the fire over to where Bilbo was standing. Dwalin was watching with a grim expression, whereas Gandalf seemed most amused.  _ Wizards. _

“Going above the mountain would take much longer, and the mention of Stone-giants is not a very pleasant thought.” Bilbo said slowly, fidgeting under Thorin’s gaze. “I have more faith in us being able to fight Goblins than literal mountains. Of course, who really knows what lies hidden in those tunnels?” His gaze drifted away from the exiled King, to the mountain again. Did he feel longing? It couldn’t be. 

Thorin nodded, “You might now know this, but us dwarves were blessed by Mahal with something that is known as ‘stone-sense’.” He rested his hand on the boulder behind Bilbo. “It allows us to feel the mountain as it lays. The tunnels. If there’s a large group of anything running through the tunnels.” 

Bilbo thought sourly,  _ Didn’t help us much last time, did it?  _ But he didn’t say anything. Was this to impress him or reassure him? He looked up at Thorin who gave him a small smile. 

“Dwalin thinks it’s a daft idea to go through the goblin tunnels. Balin thinks its wiser to face goblins as well. It’s decided. We will enter the foul place at dawn.” Thorin nodded and turned away again, leaving Bilbo by the boulder and walking over to where Balin sat. 

Kili came up behind him with wide grins. “Have you ever seen a goblin before, Master Boggins?” He put an arm around the smaller Hobbit’s shoulder. 

“Goblins isn’t the worst thing in the mountain, Kili.” Bilbo said darkly, looking back up at the mountain. There was definitely something calling to him now. A shiver crept its way up his back, and he couldn’t shake it off. His back was hunched, tense, and his hands clammy. “I just pray we make it through quickly and with minimal adventures.” 

Fili popped up behind his younger brother, nodding with an equally grim expression. “Wise words, Master Baggins.”

  
  


#

“You look like you had lemons for breakfast, Master Boggins!” Kili called down as the Company made the trek up the mountain to find the entrance to the tunnel system. Bilbo was the last one, clutching his walking stick as he watched the others navigate their way up the mountain much more easily. 

Bilbo didn’t respond to Kili’s taunts as he focused on finding proper footing. Hobbit Feet were not made for this terrain. They had thick soles, yes- almost as thick as leather!- but he was not used to this. Careful not to step on anything that would injure him, it took him a lot longer to reach the opening than it did the others. 

“Why don’t you just wear some boots? Be much easier.” Gloin frowned at the Hobbit before Thorin could chastise him for slowing them down. 

Bilbo, catching his breath, leant heavily on his stick, shaking his head. “Boots on a Hobbit!” He chuckled, “What a ridiculous idea. I think it’s more likely that you will learn how to fly, Master Gloin, than a Hobbit be ever seen in a pair of boots.” 

Gloin raised an eyebrow, a wide smirk. He tapped his nose with one finger, “Ye never know.”

The opening was a large cave, small and filled with rough sand but it was much more welcome than the harsh rock from outside. The only light was the sun shining outside and the dwarves made quick work of whatever stick they had picked up earlier and lit some torches. 

“Single- file. Don’t speak unless you absolutely have to. Whistle twice if you spot any trouble.” Thorin said quietly. “Gandalf and I will lead ahead.” 

The Company split up the following way: Thorin and Gandalf at the front with Fili and Kili right behind them. Then, Bilbo was shoved ahead of Bombur who was followed by Bofur, Bifur, Oin and Gloin. Ori was walking ahead of Nori and Dori, the young scribe clutching his sword tightly. Balin and Dwalin were the last two, making sure there were no surprises from the back. 

_ How will I find the ring? _ Bilbo thought anxiously as they started making their way through the tunnels. The rock was cold and almost as dark as obsidian. The sand beneath Bilbo’s feet was the only comfort that this place offered. There was a horrible stink in the air, almost definitely the smell of Goblins and their blood. 

It didn’t last long until they decided it was safer to extinguish the torches. The dwarves could all see perfectly well in the dark of the mountain, built for this. Even Gandalf didn’t seem to have any problems. It was just Bilbo. 

Kili, wordlessly, took one of Bilbo’s hands and held it tightly, leading him ahead. That, at least, was reassuring. After what felt like hours, they came across a split in the road, three tunnels laying before them. 

He couldn’t tell which tunnel they had gone down, his senses dulled incredibly by the darkness and smell. His eyes had adjusted as much as his Hobbit eyes could; but there was a difference between the darkness of night in the Shire and the oppressive gloominess of the Misty Mountains. Unlike last time, there were no lights here. It seemed almost as if the Goblins had abandoned this part of the mountains. Bilbo feared for the reason why. 

It must have been a day at least before they stopped to sit down. He didn’t know how much he could take. The call of the Ring was constant; the darkness was too much. Kili squeezed his hand twice, and another hand came up to cradle his face. Had he been crying?

No words were spoken, but the comfort was there nonetheless. He didn’t know who the new hand belonged to, but he leant into the touch. It was a great comfort to know that his friends were paying attention to him. He was sure Kili would rewrite the lines about a soft Hobbit  _ on _ a mountain to a sad Hobbit  _ in _ a mountain. 

A piece of bread was pressed into his hand as well and it was almost too much. He ate it quickly, his belly barely filled but his heart had warmed greatly. He needed to think clearly; where was that  _ blasted Ring? _

They carried on a short while later, but Bilbo couldn’t count the minutes or the hours that they spent. Finally, there was a flickering of light far ahead. The closer they went, the slower the pace was. The light grew more and more and, having spent the past day or so within complete darkness, it was almost an assault on his eyes. 

He couldn’t help but sigh relieved. He could also make out each dwarf in front of him, and Gandalf, who had been crouching down this entire time. The tunnels were too small for him to fully stand up, a round shape and similar to the height of Bag End. 

They paused, Thorin holding up his fist to signal the stop. No noises. No sounds. Thorin must have been satisfied enough that they carried on, and as they followed the tunnel, more and more lights appeared, small torches stuck in the walls. 

A sudden screech echoed through the tunnels and there was simultaneous sound of metal- each dwarf had pulled their weapon. Bilbo fumbled to get Sting out of its sheath and swallowed nervously, the soft blue light signalling that Goblins were close. 

“Steady.” Thorin whispered, but it was loud enough for Bilbo to hear clearly. 

A goblin rounded the corner and screeched, running towards the Company. Thorin slashed through the creature quickly, waving  _ Orcrist _ as if it was part of him. More goblins followed, one aiming for Thorin and the others weaving past him and descending onto Gandalf, Fili and Kili. The noise was almost unbearable and Bilbo backed away instinctively, holding  _ Sting _ in front of him. One of the Goblins jumped over Fili and onto Bilbo, but the Hobbit had raised his sword at the right moment, impaling the growling Goblin through its chest. 

The silence that followed after they had killed each Goblin was welcome, a reassurance that they were safe. 

Thorin nodded towards the small group of corpses and his nephews quickly propped them up against the opposite wall of the tunnel. Wiping the blood off of Orcrist on his boots, he sheathed the sword again and nodded at Bilbo, smiling softly. 

Gandalf sheathed his sword as well, clutching his staff in the other hand. He walked past Thorin, scouring ahead. The Company moved back into its single file and followed cautiously.  _ Had these Goblins been scouts? How long did they have before anyone noticed they were missing? Had anyone heard the noise? _

Bilbo walked behind Kili, who was humming softly underneath his breath. Almost too quiet for Bilbo to hear, but he could very well make out the tune of the song he wrote for Bilbo. The Hobbit smiled, glad to hear it after such a quick succession of events. 

They continued through the tunnel, stopping at each noise. More Goblins crossed their paths but they never lasted long; Thorin and Gandalf made a formidable team, slicing through the vile creatures quickly and holding each other’s backs. 

Maybe this event would allow Thorin to trust the Wizard more, or so Bilbo hoped. The tunnels sloped and turned, twisting and finally descending. The call for the Ring became louder and louder, gripping Bilbo’s heart tightly. He could not hide this from Gandalf who kept giving him worrying looks. 

Eventually they reached a hollow, empty hall that was decorated in bones, covering the ceilings. Bilbo felt faint and focused on the rough sand on the ground instead. The other dwarves whispered but stopped after Thorin glared at them. 

They edged through the Hall, staying close to the walls. Was this a trap?

There was no movement, no voices, no wind. 

At the end of the Hall were two slumping tunnels each going further into the mountain. Thorin looked to Nori and motioned to the side. Nori departed them, slipping behind some rocks. Bilbo counted the minutes and finally, after half an hour, Nori emerged with a tentative smile, nodding for them to follow him. 

Nori had found another tunnel that led into a dark cave, finding a lake in it as well. Bilbo felt ill at the sight.  _ Surely this wasn’t- _

There was no hill in the middle of the lake. It was the wrong cave. 

“Nothing here. We should set up camp.” Nori said quietly, looking around again. Thorin nodded, looking over his Company. 

“We will take turns on watch. I want three dwarves at all times.” Thorin said and the dwarves made a quick work of the camp, setting up their bedrolls further from the entrance, hidden behind a boulder. 

“Is there another cave nearby?” Bilbo whispered to Nori, pulling him to the side. 

Nori frowned and nodded, “Aye, but it seems to be deserted as well. Don’t worry, Master Burglar, no one will sneak up on us.”

Bilbo doubted that very much but kept his mouth shut. He would have to sneak off when everyone was asleep to get the Ring and somehow keep Gollum away from anyone. Gandalf leant against the boulder and winked at Bilbo, his eyes twinkling in the dark. 

The Hobbit smiled at the wizard, remembering Galadriel's words. 

_ You are not alone. _

  
  



	8. The Misty Mountains Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, is it very stressful to be around dwarves, then?” Thorin paused before speaking, quirking an eyebrow but Bilbo knew he struck a chord of pain and anger in the leader. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for all the kind comments!!!!!!
> 
> unfortunately ive reached the time in uni when all my coursework is due soon (as well as having to do work on my dissertation :P) so updates will come slower, but we are almost done with this fic!!!!!
> 
> but dont you worry, there will be. Ive decided to write three main fics (for each movie) but i will take a small break in between each fic. 
> 
> next update will be next friday!

The cave was dark and the air was damp, the lake spanning far and wide. The jolly atmosphere that had been present whenever they rested was now gone- any conversation that did happen, happened in hushed voices. It was not a suppressing darkness like earlier, it was much more eery and cold. Bilbo didn’t know how far the dwarves could see in the dark, but it was clear that anything could sneak up on them from the other side of the lake.

Dwarves may have been meant for the stone, but these mountains were vile and unlike any dwarf home that had ever been. So while Bilbo knew his dwarves were more resourceful due to the nature of these caves, he also knew there was something dampening their moods. But there was something else, and Bilbo knew he was acting weird. 

Standing to the side of the cave, away from the dwarves, he couldn’t help but stare longingly into the air. The pull of the Ring was so strong- and he knew it wasn’t like his old life. There was a deeper power inside him now, and the Ring sensed it. Even from so far away, he knew finding the Ring would be the easiest part of the journey. Even last time, the Ring had sought him out, in a way, eager to be away from Gollum and for a new mind to corrupt. He had just been a simple hobbit. Now he was something more. 

“Bilbo, you should eat something. Such gentle folks aren’t meant to be in such dark places.” Bombur approached him quietly with a small bowl of stew. Bilbo looked over to where the cook had set up a small fire, a small pot with hot stew above it. He took the bowl, a pressed smile on his face. 

“Thank you.” He didn’t say anything about gentle folks and dark places, instead filling his stomach with the hot meal. Bombur was kind, bringing him dinner like this. And it was important to remember acts of kindness, no matter how small. The round cook just stood beside Bilbo for a few moments, looking over the camp and his fellow dwarves. 

“I do hope we don’t spend too much time in this cave. It doesn’t feel good.” He rested his hand on the stone wall next to them, as if mourning the stone. 

“It’s only for tonight, hopefully. Tomorrow we’ll find the way out. Sunshine and a fresh breeze, I imagine.” Bilbo whispered, too nervous to raise his voice any louder. 

“That will be nice, after all this goblin stink.” Bombur huffed, shaking his head and patted Bilbo’s shoulder gently. “I hope we all get enough rest tonight, but something tells me that creatures do not sleep well in these mountains.” 

Bilbo shrugged, not answering. His mind wandered back to the Ring, he knew it was close, it might not even be in the next cave- what if it was in this one? _What if it was already found?_ He panicked for a quick moment, not noticing how Bombur left with a worried look, looking around the dwarves and eyes settling on Thorin. _No, I would have noticed_ , Bilbo reassured himself. He glanced over at Gandalf who had been watching him with dark eyes, following Bilbo’s eyes towards the dwarf leader, quirking an eyebrow. 

The Hobbit shook his head quickly and pushed himself off of the wall, stretching his sore muscles. _How long was I standing there_ , Bilbo thought grumpily, the soles of his feet digging into the gravel beneath him. It wasn’t a kind environment by any means but his feet hurt slightly, the stones all ragged and sharp. If he wasn’t careful, he could accidentally cut the bottom of his feet. 

He walked over where he had set up his bedroll, next to Gandalf and further away from the dwarves. The first watch was set up, Bofur, Dwalin and Thorin strategically sat around the camp, all watching in different directions. To Bilbo’s luck, Bofur sat closest to him, watching the exit to the second cave.

Cracking his knuckles, Bilbo stood up again, pretending to stretch slowly. He walked over to Bofur, sitting down next to him quietly. He didn’t really have a plan, but he knew it was easiest to convince Bofur to let him go on a ‘walk’ around the cave. Bilbo knew Thorin would just deny him and he couldn’t even think about what Dwalin’s reaction would be. 

“It’s awfully quiet in here, isn’t it?” Bofur said, clutching his pickaxe. He looked around quite often, watching both the cave exit in front of him but also the other sides of the cave, as if something was going to sneak up on them. It was very probable, Bilbo could guess that Gollum would have heard the dwarves by now and would be spying on them. 

“It’s too much for my Hobbit ears. I’m used to a lot of noise. I could do with a bit of a wander around the lake.” Bilbo sighed softly, rubbing the sole of his foot, gauging Bofur’s reaction. 

  
“Are Hobbits very fond of lakes?” Bofur frowned, his words slow. 

“Oh- uh, not- not very fond. Most Hobbits would just sink down to the bottom of the lake, if they swam. But for me it’s just about stretching my legs, really.” Bilbo said nervously, hoping that the dwarf wouldn’t ask too many questions. He knew it was odd of him to ask this of Bofur, especially when he wasn’t giving him a good reason, but he just had to hope this would work. 

Bofur looked at him for a long moment then over his shoulder to Gandalf, who seemed to nod slowly. But Bilbo wasn’t sure, it was too slow for him to definitely say. But whatever motion it had been, it seemed to help Bofur make up his mind about his next words. 

“You must be tired from this eh- environment, so to speak. Can’t be easy for a Hobbit to be cooped up underground.” Bofur rolled his hand lazily, waving across the cave.

“Exactly, exactly.” Bilbo mumbled quietly, standing up. “I was just going to stretch my legs quickly, trying to find some daylight.” 

Bofur just nodded, frowning as he watched Bilbo walk around the boulder he was sitting on and around the lake. The Hobbit didn’t want to arouse any suspicions though he was sure he already did. He could feel the pull of the ring, following it quietly. He thought the pull of the dark magic would take him into the other cave, he had been sure of it, but he followed it around the lake. 

With dread in his stomach, he slowed his steps and looked around. Was Gollum hiding here? Had he been watching them? Did he still have the ring?

There was no noise, nothing to betray the creature if he truly was there, and Bilbo lowered his body, searching the ground for the golden ring. 

His hands slid around the stones, perhaps a bit frantic in his search. Finally he heard something; a noise terribly close to him. Water, splashing, as if someone was wading through the lake towards him. He spotted the water moving, a few feet away from him, but there was no one there. Bilbo took out his sword quickly, holding it in front of him. 

The water stilled as the creature moved away from the lake, circling around Bilbo now and the Hobbit followed the movement as the rocks slid away underneath the corrupted creature’s weight. 

“ _Is it juicy?_ ” The terrible voice growled, almost as if he was teasing Bilbo. But Bilbo could only think about the Ring, _his_ Ring, and how this _creature_ was using _his_ \- A hand grabbed Bilbo’s throat from behind, fingers pressing down mercilessly and he gasped for air, swinging his sword wildly around himself, berating himself for getting lost in the hysteria of the Ring. 

He managed to swing Gollum off of him, ignoring his quiet chants about how delicious his flesh would be, eyeing the stones around him. He caught the creature, slashing one of his legs maybe as blood gushed down his sword and the creature screamed. He heard commotion from across the lake- the dwarves must have heard him. The thought of being discovered by the dwarves- he wouldn’t be able to explain this at all- he jumped forward to where Gollum was trying to escape to and must have caught the creature again, causing a howling noise. 

“Shut it- just _shut up_ !” Bilbo growled, panting now and wished Yavanna would help him out, he just _knew_ the dwarves were on their way over to where he was right now- fighting an invisible creature. 

“It-it hurts us!” Gollum wailed, still invisible but getting slower and sloppier- Bilbo could see where the creature was laying on the floor. The same creature that betrayed his nephew, delivering him to the fell _beast_ \- and that thought filled Bilbo with an unknown rage, and he couldn’t stop himself from slashing forward again, aiming to kill the creature and claim _his_ Ring. 

“It’s- it’s mine-” Bilbo huffed, ignoring the pained cries of the creature beneath his sword and he most _definitely_ heard the dwarves get closer. Had they spotted him in the darkness? He reached forward, intending to grab the creature and run- but regretted the action instantly when Gollum leant forward and _bit_ his hand. With just nine teeth, Gollum bit down on Bilbo’s pinky and ring finger and Bilbo cried out, the adrenaline and shock filling him quickly and he snapped, slamming his sword into the foul creature’s chest without a moment’s hesitation. The creature released his hand, but the damage was already there- his pinky was barely hanging onto his hand. 

_Just like you robbed my poor Frodo’s fingers_ , Bilbo thought bitterly, blinking away the tears and clutching his hand to his chest. The creature cried out noisily but Bilbo was not done yet- he reached forward again, now searching for his hands. Another scuffle, but Bilbo held his sword up, presumably to its throat and he ripped the Ring off of Gollum and held it high. 

He quickly put it in his pocket as the dwarves surrounded him, Thorin and Dwalin pushing through the small crowd to Bilbo and Gollum. And for the first time, Bilbo saw the crying creature, hunched over and clutching its chest, which was gushing out blood. 

_He also destroyed the Ring._ Bilbo thought, guilt seeping into his heart and he dropped his sword, stumbling back in shock. The adrenaline wore off, leaving Bilbo with pain and regret. He looked down at his hand now, and saw the mangled fingers. He knew someone was speaking to him, he could hear distant voices, he could make out Gandalf’s deep commanding tone and that was the least thing he heard as he fainted, the sight of his hand too much. 

But at least the Ring was his now. 

#

_I’m sorry-_

_I didn’t intend-_

_I didn’t mean to!_

Bilbo woke up suddenly, with a quick breath. It took him a moment to register his surroundings- his hand didn’t hurt anymore. They were still in the cave, it was still too dark for a Hobbit and the air was still moist. He was laying on his bedroll. He looked around, trying to see anything but his eyes adjusted too slowly. 

“That was quite a battle, there.” a familiar voice said from next to him. Bilbo reached out, like a child, trying to find the source of the voice. He mumbled something but he was so tired. 

“It’s me, it’s Bofur.” the dwarf leant closer, and Bilbo recognized him now. He sighed with relief, the mere presence of his friend comforting him. “I should’na ‘ave left you go on that walk.” He said, his face sad and somber. “I am sorry.” 

Bilbo frowned for a second then let his frown drop when his memories returned. Gollum. The _Ring._ He scrambled to feel his pockets and sighed with relief, again, when he felt the familiar shape. It was extraordinarily quiet for once, Bilbo couldn’t feel its presence, not like he had before. 

“Your hand- that _creature_ \- it bit you and Gandalf- he tried, he really did, but-” Bofur sighed, picking up Bilbo’s bandaged hand and stroked it gently. “He couldn’t save your pinky. Why didn’t you cry for help, Bilbo?” Bofur sighed again, more deeply this time and more exasperated. Bilbo felt bad for the dwarf, he could just imagine how much trouble he got with the other dwarves for letting Bilbo wander off. They would have blamed him, they would have blamed Bilbo as well. Maybe this was the moment Thorin decided that this journey wasn’t a place for Hobbits. Again. 

He cleared his throat and sat up slowly, ignoring the weird absence of his finger in his hand- he could _feel_ the empty space now- and put his hands over Bofur’s. “I am sorry, Bofur. I never meant for you to get in any trouble. What-what happened to the creature-” Bilbo looked around now, frowning. 

They weren’t in the same cave anymore. 

Bofur frowned, taking off his hat and holding it close to his chest with a grim look. “Thorin slayed the creature, against Gandalf’s wishes. I fear we may have to carry on without our wizard for a while. He left after Thorin killed it, he was very angry.”

Bilbo didn’t know what he felt- joy that Gollum was dead? Anger that Thorin had killed him? Dread that Gandalf had left? Fear? Instead, shame blossomed deep with him and tainted his cheeks red. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” He said, not to Bofur directly, but to the universe. It was his fault that Gollum was dead before his time. It was his fault that all these events had unfolded. 

“No, no, it’s not. You were attacked, caught off-guard. It looked like you almost had it, as well.” Bofur tried to comfort him, patting his arm. 

This didn’t make Bilbo feel any better. He had almost killed Gollum, and for what? The Ring? Out of revenge for something that hadn’t happened yet? He closed his eyes, pulling his legs close to his chest, trying to suppress the wave of shame and horror flooding him. He had no one to blame but himself, for the anger and the rage inside him. 

Frodo had told him about the conflict within Gollum, of his long lost self named Sméagol. 

“Bilbo? Are you okay?” Bofur asked gently, rubbing Bilbo’s knees. 

_And it’s not like I can confide in my friend, either._ Bilbo thought sourly, _I can’t confide in anyone. This isn’t right._

“Yeah. Did we move?” Bilbo said quietly, standing up slowly and stretching his body. “How long was I out?” He put his hand in the pocket of his trouser, careful not to teach the Ring and _very_ careful in ignoring how **wrong** his hand felt. 

Bofur stood up as well, putting his hat back on. “Yeah. Next cave over. We were afraid that the noise had alerted some goblins but none came. Thorin thought it best we move on anyway.” He shrugged and pointed towards the others, huddled all together without a fire. “We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up so we can leave these mountains. Nori found a way out, but I thought it was best to rest here in the dark. Out there, there’s no protection.” 

Bilbo nodded, “That’s good.” _It wasn’t. Gandalf wasn’t here to slay the Goblin-king. And if they didn’t kill him now, they would have to kill him in the battle of Erebor and they had barely won that battle. And what of Azog? Did the Goblin-king send for him again, this time?_ Bilbo thought anxiously, the shame settling deeper in his bones. Too many questions, too many things he could not foresee. Had he changed too much in asking Gandalf to come with them? How badly had he messed up this quest?

“What did- where is the-” Bilbo didn’t even know how to phrase his question but Bofur knew exactly what he meant, tilting his head to the side. 

“We put the body into the lake. No one will know what happened. Didn’t want to leave a trace of us, did we?” Bofur hugged him suddenly, clutching the small Hobbit close. “Don’t let those dark thoughts get to you, Bilbo. It wasn’t your fault, you did the best you could.”

Thorin suddenly appeared behind Bofur, clearing his throat roughly and speaking in a quick succession of words but they were both too quick and too quiet for Bilbo to make out. He wasn’t sure if it was even in westron. 

Bofur released Bilbo, giving Bilbo one last sad smile and left them. 

“How do you fare then, Master Burglar? Would you like to go on another walk to see which dark creatures scout amongst the walls?” Thorin asked harshly and with a glare. His nephews crept up behind him, smiling sympathetically at Bilbo and rolling their eyes at Thorin. 

Thorin spoke almost exactly as the last time they had been in the mountains, Fili and Kili though appeared to more friendly towards Bilbo, whom they had included in their circle of trust now. It made this easier. 

“Why, I would have thought it was a good thing that my walk resulted in such a discovery.” Bilbo huffed, lifting his head to meet Thorin. “In fact, you should be glad because it is just me that is injured, and no one else. Perhaps my discovery prevented a different tragedy.” He said quickly, his wit returning to him. _Who knows what Gollum had been planning, if he had been planning at all? He needed to get the Ring. That was one thing he needed to do._

“Perhaps. But this resulted in a delay of almost an entire day.” Thorin said, voice less harsh but still just as rough. “And an injury we have had to treat. And the departure of our wizard!” 

“Gandalf comes and goes as he pleases, he is most likely releasing the stress of being around dwarves.” Bilbo ground his teeth. _It is not my fault Gandalf left. It’s not,_ he lied to himself.

“Oh, is it very stressful to be around dwarves, then?” Thorin paused before speaking, quirking an eyebrow but Bilbo knew he struck a chord of pain and anger in the leader. 

Sighing, he wiped the grime off of his face, clenching his fist afterward- or he tried to, at least. “Well, when they have two moods and none in between, it can get very tiring.” He mumbled and looked at his bandaged hand. Bofur had mentioned that they weren’t able to save his pinky, but he had not said anything about the others. He realized at this moment, he could not feel his ring finger or his middle finger. 

His eyes widened with this realization and he quickly unbound the bandage, ignoring Thorin’s response. His left, mutilated hand was shaking incredibly while his right hand ripped off the bandage. There was no pinky finger- that much was true, but his ring and middle finger were a sickening colour and he couldn’t move them. He bent his thumb and his index finger perfectly but he couldn’t move the other two. 

Fili appeared before him, angry and upset. “That foul creature did that to you. Gandalf thought we ought to spare him, for he was so pathetic and sad. But he would have died of his wounds anyway, Uncle did him a favour by killing him so quickly. A merciless death! That was why Gandalf left.” He reached forward and held Bilbo’s left hand. 

Thorin walked forward and peaked around Fili’s shoulder at Bilbo’s hand, a grim expression on his face. “That creature deserved nothing of a tragic death. Quick and not worth mentioning. You gave us all terrible shocks, fainting like that. You should thank Oin for that, he managed to save your hand. And yet, we are the stressful ones.” He gave Bilbo one last look and walked away, shaking his head. 

Kili looked between Thorin, who was grumbling to himself in khuzdul and Fili, who stayed with Bilbo and telling him that his uncle was just worried and didn’t mean it. He decided to stay with his brother, giving the poor Hobbit a pat on the back. 

“You’ll see. Some fresh air, some sunshine, we’ll all be much better.” Kili nodded and they helped Bilbo clear up his pack, repacking it so Bilbo wouldn’t need to rummage around too much. Kili also helped Bilbo readjust his belt and his sword.

It was clear to both brothers that Bilbo Baggins had too much pride to admit he needed help with his hand, but like good nephews, they helped him out wordlessly. Bilbo couldn’t tell them just how much of Frodo they reminded him, and it ached so badly to know that he could never tell them. 

#

Fili and Kili had been right. The fresh air and the sunshine helped lift the company’s spirit. It had been nothing like the darkness of Mirkwood, which had infected them like a drug. But it was still a relief. 

Gandalf did not rejoin them, and Bilbo did not know where he had went off to. They did not come across the Goblin-king or any other goblin, in fact. They walked in a single file, like always, down the mountain into the forest below. They passed the cliffs where Bilbo had taken a stand against Azog the last time and Bilbo paused, looking back towards the mountain. 

_Where was everyone?_ Bilbo thought anxiously, rubbing the small stump of his left pinky sub-consciously with his right fingers. Thorin may think that they are delayed but they are still too early. And now, Bilbo wasn’t sure anymore that he was Yavanna’s hero. He felt like a failure and her absence was too much. 

Dwalin paused next to him, “Expecting anything?” He said in the most neutral way that Bilbo had ever heard a dwarf speak. 

Startled he looked back at the gruff dwarf and shrugged, “I thought Gandalf would have caught up with us by now. Or that the Goblins would chase after us, for some reason. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious now.”

It was as if a silent agreement had been made. Dwalin didn’t accuse him of witchcraft, and Bilbo told him what he was thinking. Perhaps he had convinced Dwalin unintentionally that his foreknowledge was in their favour, and not the other way around. 

Dwalin nodded and resumed his place at the back but now, he held his weapon ready. Bilbo sighed and followed, taking his place in front of Dwalin. 

Another thing to worry about was the Ring’s silence. Before, it had been calling to him, _begging_ him to find it. And now that he had it, it was silent. Almost like a normal ring. He didn’t feel powerful at all, not like before when Yavanna was present with her warmth, he felt like he had the first time- a weak Hobbit who didn’t belong. 

It was nightfall when Gandalf joined them again, ignoring all the other dwarves in favour of smothering Bilbo in a massive hug. They had set up camp at the bottom of the mountain, a great distance from the exit they had used with a vantage point towards anyone coming down towards them. Gandalf, however, had crept up behind them. 

“I am so glad to see you alive and well, my dear Bilbo!” Gandalf smiled, leaning down and leaning his forehead against the small Hobbit’s. 

“Me too. I was fearing another horror would happen and we wouldn’t have our wizard here to protect us.” Bilbo grumbled, and hugged the tall wizard back. Things felt more right now, with Gandalf at their side. 

“Oh, another horror will happen. I was scouring the side of the Mountains, and you will not like what I have found.” Gandalf stood back up, now turning towards Thorin who stood next to him with his arms crossed. 

“And what have you found?” He demanded.

“Azog the Defiler sent out a bounty for your head. It was no coincidence that we meet minimal Goblins. The Goblin-king let us pass through the mountains, only to follow you down here. Azog will reach you before dawn.” 

And that was when panic broke out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: i posted a coloured sketch of what Bilbo after his fight with Gollum looks like (gore?) On my instagram @pallalalo


	9. Azog the Defiler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azog cried out again in his file language, eyes wide as he stared up at Thorin. Neither he nor Bilbo had expected such quick, expert moves from Thorin. It almost seemed as if he didn’t need Bilbo’s help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the lovely comments!!!!
> 
> here is the final chapter!!!

Bilbo couldn’t make out a clear word amongst the screaming, but the chaos mirrored his feelings. He looked at Thorin for guidance, panicking. Azog was on his way, and so were the Goblins. The sun had barely set. 

Thorin glared at Gandalf, cold fury in his eyes, but it wasn’t meant for the wizard. It was meant for something unspeakable. 

“Listen to me!” He roared and the dwarves stopped screaming, turning to their leader. Thorin unsheathed his sword, holding his head high. “We don’t have long. We’re at a very vulnerable position right now, and we need to move. We will not die tonight.” He growled and that seemed to assuage the dwarves, but it did nothing for Bilbo’s poor nerves. 

“We will have a better chance in the forest ahead.” He started walking alongside Thorin, his voice quieting down. The dwarves packed up quickly, moving perfectly in sync. Bilbo was still standing, cold sweat dripping down his back by the time the dwarves had packed away the camp and were moving towards the forest. 

“Master Baggins!” Someone shouted roughly, but he couldn’t hear who. It was like a hand had reached around his throat, squeezing tighter and tighter as the life drained out of him. The mountain was looming around him and he swore he could see figures moving. They would be here soon, they would reach them quickly. 

A hand grabbed him roughly, dragging him along and Bilbo looked up to see Dwalin above him. “Come on, it won’t do us any good to have you separated.” He said and soon they were in the forest, Bilbo stumbling behind Dwalin. 

_Soon._

Bilbo heard the slithery voice, barely a whisper in the back of his head, and his heart dropped. He reached to his pocket, pressing his hand flat over the Ring and there it was; a dark power growing inside of him. It was much more potent this time, easy to get lost in. He could see the dwarves prepare around him, drawing their weapons and making battle plans but it was like he was a ghost. He heard nothing, and he was far away. 

_Put me on._

Bilbo circled the Ring with his fingers, looking back towards the mountain. 

_I could help_.

The small Hobbit knew it was true, he had been so useful as an invisible ghost, slicing through spiders and orcs alike. But there was something more about Bilbo, there was more power a regular Hobbit should have. _I shouldn’t, you treacherous thing._ He snapped himself out of it, clenching his fists and bringing them away from his pockets. He couldn’t feel Yavanna’s warmth but that didn’t mean anything. The Ring could corrupt him.

“Bilbo! Come ‘ere!” Bofur called, waving at Bilbo. “We’ve got a plan for those bastards. But we need your help to do it.” 

“What do you need?” Bilbo spoke, his voice rough and low. Bofur nodded at _Sting_ with a smile. 

“We need you to get up on the trees. You’ll be our scout, able to tell us when that filthy scum gets close. Your sword will glow blue, and that’s when we’ll attack.” Bofur put his hand on Bilbo’s back, guiding him to a particular tree. 

“Where will you be? Those orcs will overrun you. I should stay with you!” Bilbo looked over to Thorin, who was in deep conversation with Dwalin. 

“Don’t worry, laddie. We’ll be up on the trees too.” Bofur chuckled and put his hand together, motioning for Bilbo to climb up. 

“Are you sure this is the best plan?” Bilbo asked, reluctant to go so far from Thorin. The last time he was apart from Thorin and Azog arrived, he had lost everything. 

Bofur nodded and looked at him with understanding eyes. “He will be fine. I think the discovery of Azog will fuel him through this. We will all protect him, Bilbo. With our lives.” He looked fierce, and Bilbo knew it was true. That was the worst part; there was no way for Bilbo to protect them all. 

#

_Put me on, we can protect him together. You’re weak without me._

The only thing he could hear was the Ring. Hiding up in the canopy, there was no other noise. It was getting harder and harder to resist the allure of the Ring. Maybe he was much stronger with the Ring on. He could protect Thorin much better. And wasn’t this what he was here to do? 

_Exactly. You know you want to._

Staring at Sting in his hands, he sighed. _No, I have a duty._ The burden was heavy, an emotional burden, but his body still ached underneath the weight. It was dark, the pale moonlight shining through weakly. He couldn’t see the other dwarves but he knew they were closeby. They had set up him at the front, near the beginning of the forest. Like a chainlink, there were scattered behind him. As soon as the blade would glow, Fili and Kili would spread word. They were, after all, the fastest out of all of the dwarves. 

_I can give you so much more power._

Bilbo shook his head, ignoring the whispers. It wasn’t as easy as it had been the first time around, but it was much different. Not more difficult, but the whispers were that much more promising. Perhaps, that was why others found it so much more alluring. The more important you were in the universe, the more powers it gave you. Bilbo had always wondered, after finding out from Frodo _what_ his magic ring had been; it had merely made him invisible. 

There was a rumbling noise in the distant and Bilbo looked up, peering through the leaves into the darkness. He could see a crowd in the distance, and wargs. This was it; his heart was pounding miserably in his chest and he looked back to where Fili and Kili should be, waving with his left hand. 

Fili appeared suddenly, almost knocking Bilbo off of the branch. He grabbed the Hobbit, leaning in close. “How far?”

“Another half an hour, maybe less. Wargs, and orcs. I can only assume they’ll send a warg ahead.” Bilbo whispered, clutching his sword in one hand and Fili’s shoulder with the other. 

He could see the dwarf nod his head slowly, then he felt Fili’s hands move away. He let go, in turn, and watched the dwarf heir make his way through the branches. He was impressed with the ease in Fili’s movements, so quick and silent. 

  
  
  
  


Bilbo settled back into his spot, eyes on the growing crowd of Orcs and wargs. He knew he was to stay in the trees, Thorin did not trust him on the battlefield. And Bilbo didn’t blame him, not at all, he knew it was wiser to stay in the trees. But he also knew that he couldn’t and wouldn’t. As soon as he could, he would find Thorin and the princes, doing his best to protect them. 

Last time, he had faced down Azog and his white warg alone, protecting Thorin’s unconscious body. This time, the scene was quite different. There was no cliff behind them, only an endless forest. This probably meant that there would be no eagles to save them and bring them to the Carrock. Gandalf had returned to them however. 

He had heard nothing from Yavanna however, which in turn frightened him. Had he made a mistake to anger her? Could she not communicate with him because of the evil in the Ring?

All Bilbo could do for now was watch the Enemy grow bigger and bigger and he felt Fili return to his side. Both of them stayed silent as they saw the first Warg depart from the crowd and depart into the woods beneath them. Fili whistled, an owl-like tune, departing from Bilbo’s side and sliding through the canopy as if he belonged there. Bilbo held up his sword for the others to see, the Orc on top of the Warg causing it to glow a soft blue.

The orc didn’t notice the blue light as it shared the same light as the moon, but the dwarves all saw. They had to. He heard some rustling through the trees and a sharp wince and a thump, watching the Orc and Warg fall to the side. 

He didn’t know who had done that; he had to guess it was Nori with his weapons. He was sneaky, quiet, precise. Bilbo figured he would be the only dwarf along with Kili to specialise in long distance weapons. 

Bilbo turned back to the horde of orcs in front of the forest. They had paused, Azog at the front pacing along the front line, waiting for the scout to return. Bilbo held his breath, holding his sword behind his back to prevent the Orcs from spotting him. 

The scout didn’t return, causing Azog the scream angrily, in a foul language that caused shivers to run down Bilbo’s spine. He still didn’t dare breathe. 

_I can hear them, too. Put me on, and you won’t fear them. They will fear you._

Bilbo hesitated, his left hand covering his pocket. He needed to stay strong. He was unsure of what would happen if he put the Ring on, would he really be more powerful? 

Azog turned around to the forest, eyes narrowing down. Bilbo gasped, stepping back onto the branch behind him. Kili caught him before he would have taken another step, hugging him from behind. “Be careful, Bilbo. Watch where you go.” He whispered. 

“They’re coming.” Bilbo whispered, terrified to his bone. But he was even more terrified of what he would become, should he give in to the evil of the Ring. 

#

Bilbo knew that the plan had not been their best work. He knew that it depended on a lot of thigns; that dropping out of the trees meant they had the element of surprise but what would happen afterwards? After the Orcs got over the surprise?

He could hear the fight from the trees above. Dwarf vs orc and warg, it wasn’t a fair fight. But somehow, the dwarves were keeping the enemy at bay. The ground was covered in orc and warg corpses, the loud swinging of metal filling the air. Bilbo was crawling alongside the branches, trying to spot Thorin. Azog hadn’t entered the fight yet and he was the only Orc worth worrying about. 

Thorin was in the thick of it, as Bilbo had suspected. Surrounded by orcs who had been thrown off their wargs, the dwarf king made quick work of the vile creatures, swinging his elfish blade with power and grace. It was quite the scene. Thorin shouldn’t have been able to look _majestic_ , covered in orc blood and his hair a mess, but he did. He did and Bilbo found it very difficult to look at anything else.

Gandalf was at the edge of the battle, a swirling force of grey, making quick work of the orcs around him. Staff in one hand, _Glamdring_ in the other, he was a formidable foe. Bilbo knew he wasn’t even using that much energy, he was saving it. 

He continued crawling around the branches, looking for anyone who might need an extra hand, but most of the dwarves were holding their own, if not driving the orcs back. He wondered what the change had been; last time it had felt like a battle hardly won. Looking at his dwarves now though, it almost didn’t feel like a battle at all. 

Ori, swinging a massive war-hammer, was clearing the Orcs around him, splattering blood all across the trees. He was shouting in khuzdul, over to his brothers who were fighting near him. Bilbo never knew that the young dwarf had such strength within him. 

Bilbo almost let himself sigh in relief, a feeling of victory crawling up inside him that got shattered as soon as he spotted the white Orc entering the forest on his white warg. He looked panicked in between Azog and the rest; no one was spotting him. He would attack the dwarves just as the dwarves had attacked the orcs; with the element of surprise. 

Not if Bilbo could change that, though. 

Whistling just as Fili had, he clambered around the trees as gracefully as he could, trying to draw the attention to the Orc. But no one heard him. 

_Use me._

And Bilbo was ashamed to admit that he could not resist it any further. He waited for a word from Yavanna, for any sign to stop. But none came, and so he slipped the Ring on quickly, making his way through the trees towards Azog. The world went quiet as the Ring engulfed him, making him invisible to the eyes of Orcs and dwarves. 

_Yes._

_Shutup!_ Bilbo thought grumpily but he could not deny the rush of power he felt. He was stronger now, faster. He climbed down the tree behind Azog, unsheathing his sword. The Warg seemed to have heard his descent, turning around quickly and growling at him. Azog tore at her neck, growling in confusion. 

Bilbo stood in front of Azog, unbridled rage filling him and he cried out, slashing the Warg’s neck as he ran around her. Blood spilled out as Bilbo used his newfound speed to slaughter the warg. He remembered it all too well, how the warg had buried its teeth in his arm, throwing him around like a doll. 

The warg fell to the side, Azog toppling to the floor alongside with it, eyes wide in confusion, looking around frantically for the attacker. He growled something again, fury taking over as he pushed the warg off of himself. 

Bilbo stood behind him, holding his sword out, ready to slay this beast as well. 

**No. Not yet.**

Yavanna’s voice rang out clearly as Bilbo had taken a step back to slive off Azog’s neck. Bilbo stumbled back, feeling the warmth blossom in his heart. It was a sea of white energy amongst the evil power that had settled in his bones. It felt wrong and right at the same time. 

_Yavanna-_

And with that, the warmth left abruptly as if that had been enough. It wasn’t nearly enough and by the time that Bilbo had come back to him, Azog was standing up and yelling angrily at the Orcs in front of him. But it seemes as if this had drawn the attention well enough as the dwarves spotted Azog.

Bilbo was panting and moved slowly behind the tree, recollecting himself. 

_So that’s where this power comes from, Hobbit. I knew there was something special in you._

_You chased her away._ If a thought could growl, Bilbo would have snapped at the whisper in his head. 

_No one chases the Lady Yavanna away._

Bilbo looked back around the tree to see that Azog was making his way towards the dwarves, pointing his mutilated arm towards Thorin, the crude weapon directed at his head. 

Bilbo expected Thorin to be fuming, to be running towards Azog with a shout of hurt and rage. Instead, their dwarf leader looked as calm as the sky above them. Gandalf stood to the side of him, his face obscured by his hat. _He must be talking to Thorin,_ Bilbo thought to himself. 

The Orcs parted around him but the dwarves did not dare move. Not until Thorin shouted at them to move, walking through them towards Azog. 

_This is it._ Bilbo climbed back on to the trees, rushing to get above them. It was silent below him as he sat silently on a thick branch right above Azog. He would not allow Azog to lay a hand on Thorin. He knew as soon as he was above them that there was a terrible willingness inside of him. He would risk everything if it meant Thorin would live. 

**Remember your promise. The dwarf king is not your only concern.** ****

Yavanna’s voice was almost scolding, as if he was a child who had stolen a biscuit. He shook his head, smiling apologetically. 

Azog and Thorin circled each other, as the other orcs descended on the dwarves again and the fighting resumed all around them. 

The white Orc took a step forward, slashing as he went but Thorin dodged him easily, using the motion to slive along Azog’s legs and forcing him to kneel in pain. The dwarf king jumped back as Azog slashed again, growling and snapping at Thorin. 

Thorin just glared at him, and there it was. Bilbo knew there was fury in his moves, a quiet sort of fury that fueled every step. Azog jumped at Thorin, who sidestepped quickly. He threw his heavy fur coat off of himself and sliced again at Azog. He had aimed to injure the white Orc’s chest, but instead he caught the Orc’s hip. Just as well as Thorin used Azog’s tempo against him, pinning him to the ground with his sword. 

Azog cried out again in his file language, eyes wide as he stared up at Thorin. Neither he nor Bilbo had expected such quick, expert moves from Thorin. It almost seemed as if he didn’t need Bilbo’s help.

Thorin pulled his sword out of Azog’s hips, covered in blood and took three steps back, waiting for Azog to get up. Dwalin and Fili had formed a small guard around Thorin, keeping the Orcs away from the main battle. 

Bilbo couldn’t spot Gandalf right now, but he trusted the wizard enough to know he was probably doing something to help them. 

Azog stood up slowly, hissing furiously at Thorin, speaking again. Bilbo could guess what he was saying. With his wounds, Bilbo didn’t expect much from the white Orc but he knew not to underestimate him. He was a vicious foe, who would fight to his death to make sure the line of Durin would die. And it fueled the rage inside Bilbo even more.

The two circled each other again, Azog's wounds slowing him down significantly. but he wouldn't retreat yet. This time, Thorin stepped forward and swung his sword in one motion, but Azog swooped low, crying out as he put his weight on his injured leg and knocking Thorin back.

The dwarf leader stumbled back, swinging his sword as he went and Azog countered by using his mutilated arm, from which a circular trident stuck out, to deliver a powerful blow to Thorin’s head and blocking Thorin’s sword with his other arm. The force knocked Thorin to the ground, blood gushing out from where Azog had hit Thorin. 

Bilbo took this as his cue, and with all his courage he could gather, he took the Ring off, trusting in Yavanna, and jumped from his branch onto Azog. Unsheathing his sword mid-flight, he landed on the pale Orc, burying his sword in Azog’s shoulder. 

Azog screeched, an ugly, grating noise, and reached around to grab Bilbo. But Bilbo dug his feet firmly on Azog’s back, hands clenching the handle of _Sting_ as he pulled the sword back out. Azog finally overpowered Bilbo, holding him high away from himself.

He could hear the shocked cries from the other dwarves and pandemonium broke out as the dwarves rallied, slaughtering the orcs as they came closer. The orcs may have had the superior numbers but they did not have the passion and skill of his dwarves. 

“I will kill you if you touch him.” Bilbo hissed, giving into the rage of his heart, and used Azog’s face to jump off of him and towards Thorin. He held his sword out as he went, Yavanna’s warmth filling his muscles with unfamiliar strength and he landed gracefully in front of Thorin. There was no hiding that he had magical aid. 

Azog growled and hissed, angry beyond measure at having been injured by such a small creature. He spoke again, pointing his circular trident towards Bilbo and Thorin. Bilbo dug his feet deeper into the earth, gripping his sword and glaring at Azog. He was sure he was acting like a mad fool, like a mad Baggins. 

The pale Orc stood, defiant and on adrenaline, as if no injury could stop him. Bilbo would almost lose his bravery in the face of such evil were it not for Thorin’s words from behind him. “Bilbo, what are you doing?” He could tell Thorin was struggling to get up. 

“Protecting you-” Bilbo growled as Azog took two steps forward, swinging his trident threateningly but Bilbo was ready. It was not only strength that Yavanna lent him, but an experienced strength of one who had seen many battles. The Hobbit jumped, small enough to dive in between Azog’s legs, slicing along the calf and rolling to stand up as Azog was forced to kneel again, trying to turn around to face Bilbo. But what Azog had in physical prowess, Bilbo made up for in speed. He kicked the pale Orc’s injured shoulder, the sole of his foot as tough as bark. This caused Azog to lean over on his hand, as he tried to stand up holding out his trident towards Bilbo. 

“Bilbo-”

“Our hobbit-”

“Someone get him-”

But none was as fast as the small Hobbit, who had never felt more alive as he took on the pale Orc. It continued like this, Azog relying on heavy, powerful blows but he could never catch Bilbo whose feet seemed to toughen with each kick. 

It ended when Bilbo landed in front of Thorin, who lay there unconsciously while Oin was trying his best to bandage his head in the middle of the battlefield when they all heard it; 

“Leave this land, vile creatures!” A powerful, deep voice called through the air and a massive eagle dove in between the trees, grabbing three orcs and flying high to drop the creatures again. Bilbo was amazed to see the eagles dive deep into the forest, but it was like the trees bent out of the way for them, a soft green light covering the branches.

Bilbo laughed triumphantly, pointing at Azog with his sword and raising an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve to see their might!”

Azog hissed, his face contorted in fury and hatred, covered in his own blood. Instead of staying, he turned and ran into the deep of the forest with surprising speed, abandoning the battle as well as his own command. 

Bilbo spat at the direction that Azog had fled in and sheathed his sword, letting out a deep sigh. All around him were eagles that took care of the rest of the Orcs, with Gandalf leading the charge. Bilbo hadn’t noticed his absence until now that his return brought the eagles. 

**Some things were always meant to be.**

_Thank you for letting me save him._ Bilbo thought as he fell to his knees next to Thorin. The warmth left him with that motion and all of a sudden he felt every blow Azog had managed to hit him with. 

Oin stared at Bilbo in disbelief, unsure of what to say. 

“Will he be okay?” Bilbo asked urgently, frowning at the dwarf-king. Thorin, though unconscious, still looked very much alive if a little pale. 

Oin nodded and pointed towards the eagles. “I think they’re planning on bringing us somewhere. I’ve bandaged his head as well as I could, he should be fine. Head wounds are always tricky.” He said slowly, taking in the scene in front of him. 

The dwarves had all surrounded the three of them, Fili and Kili dropping next to Bilbo, clutching each other. Gandalf was waving at them as the Eagles landed slowly onto the clearing, bowing their heads. 

“If you would all climb on, we will take you far from the scum.” One of the eagles spoke, and Bilbo had honestly thought he had seen everything before but he was very wrong. 

#

Bilbo was holding on as much as he could. In front of him was Bofur, who was tugging gently on the eagles’ feather to hold on. They were flying through the air, almost the same route they had last time. They weren’t far now, he could see the carrock where they had landed last time.

Now that the battle was over, he realized he had not been as invincible as he had felt. His left leg, for example, had a nasty gash that he didn’t remember getting. Or several bruises that had blossomed on his back. He felt all of this only now, that they were up in the air and as his body calmed down from the rush of power he had felt. 

He tried very hard not to bleed onto the eagle but he could not stop the flow, all he could do was hold onto Bofur with one arm and with the other, press down on the gushing wound. 

As if that was not enough, he was also anxiously watching Thorin, who was being carried in the talons of one eagle. He wasn’t the only one as he could hear Fili and Kili cry for their uncle occasionally. 

As soon as the eagle had gently placed Thorin on top of the rock, Gandalf was at his side, climbing down from the leader’s back next to Thorin. He leant over him, placing his hand over Thorin’s eyes and whispering something, but Bilbo was still too far to really notice anything else. 

One after one, each eagle let their riders get off of them and onto the rock and it wasn’t until Bofur and Bilbo climbed off of the birds that Thorin woke up. The eagles departed, save for the leader. 

While Thorin was slowly getting up, getting hugged tightly by a crying Kili and a shushing Fili, Gandalf bid the leader a very warm thank you and a farewell. Bilbo, relaxed at the sight of Thorin awake and seemingly well, sat down slowly with the help of Bofur. 

“Oin, we need your help!” Bofur called as Bilbo had a proper look at his leg. It was not a clean wound, it was covered in dirt and orc’s blood, as well as his own now drying blood. The cut itself was jagged and more of a stab than a slice, presumably from Azog’s trident. 

Oin huffed and dropped next to Bilbo, shaking his head while speaking in hushed khuzdul. He took out some bandages from his pack, after cleaning the wound quickly and bandaged it tightly. He closed the bandage with a pull, and ignored Bilbo’s huff of pain. 

“You were so stupid, what were you thinking?! You were so reckless, he caught you so many times! I can’t believe we were as lucky as we are, with you jumping all over the place!” Oin scolded him, hands on his hips as he sat next to Bilbo. Bofur, Ori and Bombur had gathered around Bilbo now, holding onto any part of him that they could reach. Oin shook his head and reached forward, hugging him tightly. “You’re such a brave little thing. Thank you for saving him.”

Bilbo smiled tiredly, and patted his back, leaning his head on his shoulder. “Any day.”

“Don’t you dare be reckless again.” Oin huffed and stood back up, letting Thorin come into view. 

_This is only the beginning, Oin._ Bilbo thought and with the help of Bofur and Ori, he stood back up. 

Thorin started walking towards him, conflicted and confused. “You don’t look like a warrior and yet I’ve never seen anyone fight the way you do. I thought at the beginning of this journey that we would have to bury you along the journey, that you would fall as soon as conflict would start. And yet, not only have you proven me hopelessly wrong, you have saved the line of Durin over and over.” Thorin smiled at Bilbo, a bright smile so full of relief and happiness as Bilbo had never seen him before. It hurt to look at Thorin like this and he couldn’t help but tear up. This was how Thorin was supposed to be; happy and alive, not dying tragically in his arms. 

“You have saved me from that foul enemy. You were amazing- had you not been there, I wouldn’t have lived to see you again.” Thorin stepped forward, taking Bilbo’s shoulders into his hands and leaning their foreheads together. Bilbo felt like his heart would explode and all he could do was smile dumbly and try not to cry. 

“Thank you. You have done so much more than your contract demanded of you.” Thorin whispered and Bilbo found himself melting into a puddle in Thorin’s hands. These words were only meant for him to hear. “You have proven yourself to be a true friend, loyal and brave. I will remember that, Bilbo Baggins. I will remember the _amr_ _âl_ you have shown to me and my kin.” Thorin’s lips grazed his ears, and Bilbo couldn’t stop the shivers running down his body. There was no way Thorin knew what this did to Hobbits. 

Bilbo realized that Thorin was waiting for a response from him and he cleared his throat, fighting away the blush on his cheeks. He bowed his head, leaning his forehead now against Thorin’s shoulder. 

“I will do anything I can to ensure you see your home again, Thorin. Not only see it but rebuild it to the glory it once held. I mean it, I want to see you as King under the mountain. Where you belong.” Bilbo whispered, not trusting his own voice to crack.

**Even if you can’t join him there?**

Yavanna’s voice carefully whispered. Bilbo’s heart broke at the question but his resolve didn’t, _even if I can’t join him there._

Thorin pulled away from the small Hobbit and gave him another brilliant smile. Bilbo hated the way his heart fluttered at this. It was such a small motion, but it meant so much to him. It was rare that Thorin smiled. It was even rarer when it was genuine. And he had never seen Thorin’s icy blue eyes emit such warmth; directed at Bilbo. 

“There it is!” Someone shouted, “I can see Erebor!” and with that, Thorin broke away from Bilbo and turned towards his home, his smile never fading. 

And in that moment, Bilbo understood what he needed to do, why Yavanna had asked this question. Bilbo understood the world very clearly and it broke his heart. For he would do all he could to see Thorin as King, with Fili and Kili at his side. But this future wasn’t his to enjoy. Not in his last life, and not in this. He was not meant to be a part of Erebor the way he had dreamt of. 

But it didn’t matter. Thorin would be alive, and he would be King. 

Thorin looked back towards Bilbo, holding out his hand for the Hobbit. Bilbo smiled softly, fearing he could never claim this dwarf as _his_ , but took his hand anyway. Thorin pulled him close and motioned to his home. 

“Welcome, Bilbo Baggins, to the view of glorious Erebor!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> amrâl- love
> 
> whoo!!!! finally finished the first fic/movie!!! what a wild ride its been, im so sorry for the last few chapters being delayed but its been a little chaotic. 
> 
> i will take a two week hiatus before starting the next fic but i hope you will understand/join me when the time comes!!!
> 
> Edit: im back from my hiatus, been self isolating at home and been writing the next story, aka the 2nd movie. hoping to post the first chapter on the 2nd April 2020! stay safe y'all and stay home
> 
> Further edit: im not as good as an artist as i am a writer (i think) but i do enjoy drawing: so some scenes ive drawn and posted on my instagram @pallalalo if you want to check it out <3 (ie what Bilbo protecting Thorin from Azog might look like)


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